Fear of the Unknown
by Passer
Summary: He had almost given upon his chance to fall in love, how could one, with options as limited as his were? But that was before he pranced into his life, dancing eyes and husky voice and all. Three-shot, HD
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Enjoy. And please review.

**Disclaimer**: No profit is being made out of this harmless work of fiction, promise!

**Fear of the Unknown**

"_Not all romances begin _

_Past the jaws of death;_

_Sometimes love begins as softly as snow;_

_It happens when both_

_Cannot let the other go…."_

His dull, lackluster turbulent grey eyes scanned the horizon non-descriptively.

The snitch landed softly on his shoulder and the so-called Seeker smiled feebly at him and raised her hand for it. Sneering, he grabbed the delicately fluttering ball off his shoulder and held it out for the girl. She gripped her broom hard, trying to maneuver the broom close enough to the blonde to take the snitch. Snorting, he stood and strode over the make-shift pitch and raised his hand, the snitch struggling between his fingers. She took it from his hand, smiling gratefully and turned her broom, struggling vainly to stay in the air.

Shaking his head and trying not to despair, he retraced his footsteps back to his seat under the maple tree. He glanced around lazily, one ear cocked for the sound of a gong. _What was the point here?_ He wondered for the umpteenth time. Why did they insist that everyone spend two hours of a day outside in the sun when there were barbed fences all around and only served to discourage and not inspire in any way? His eyes slid over the youngsters playing quidditch, again. He snorted, _pathetic really_! Two of the players were struggling to keep their brooms afloat in the air, paralyzed legs a dead weight and not very conducive to playing a charged game of quidditch.

There was in all possibility one person or maybe at most two in that small group of people who actually had enough of strength to play the game properly. It was sad, actually, how people who had lost every little thing in life could be so optimistic and get absolutely nothing from it.

His listless eyes continued past the players and settled on a small family in the grass.

The woman, _mother, _he supposed with a pang; was kneeling, hugging a little brunette boy to her bosom and crying softly. The man, _father,_ he understood with a slight frown; stood beside her helplessly, his hand on his wife's shoulder, his eyes watering. The he knelt and pulled the woman and his son into his arms, grounding them, offering solid support, _solid warmth_; the boy thought watching longingly, a wistful smile pulling at his lips.

The woman pulled away, kissing the boy's head, her lips lingering, longing and whispered against his head. "Mommy's so sorry, baby." She hiccupped, her eyes swollen and red. "Mommy loves you so very very much." The little boy smiled softly. "I know, mommy, I love you too." "You know that I would give anything to be able to take you home with me right now, right?" She whispered, looking for reassurance. "Yes, mum." He glanced to his father, wisdom far beyond his years in his eyes. "Take mum home, dad."

The man stood, putting his arms around the woman and pulling her to her feet. The little boy waited till they drove away and then knelt, curling into himself and crying harshly. The boy who sat, _alone_, under the maple tree felt his eyes fill with tears. He reached out with his hands, as if to comfort the crying little boy, wishing he could provide what little comfort he himself had required, yet no one had offered.

A woman in white overalls clutched at the boy, her hand clenched around her wand and crooned at him in a high voice, calming him, _Veela_, the boy thought, his eyes glazing over. All care-takers there were Veela. No one could calm the lot of them as effectively as the Veela could. The Veela led the little boy away, gentling her crooning and lulling the boy to a restful slumber.

He shook his head to get rid of the remaining daze clouding his head. She was so very cruel, the bitch we call life. His cheeks flushed when he tasted the bitter edge of his tears and he shook his head again, feeling devoid of any feeling _human_. The little boy, he had been _so_ very very young…!

A loud gong echoed around the little fenced and warded clearing.

An old man who had been drooling in a wheelchair as old as him shot awake, cursing loudly. The male half of a couple, who had been playing wizarding chess nearby, snorted. "Not in front of the children, Eric." He hollered, playfully. The man in the wheelchair grinned and wheeled himself inside. The other man leaned down and helped his wife up. Whispering to each other, arm-in-arm, they walked indoors. Sighing miserably, the young blonde followed suit.

XxX

His eyes trailed over the bleak, dull crème walls of his suite. He sat curled up on his bed, waiting for his daily check-up. His eyes stopped at the window. Winter was on its way out, he mused, spying the yellow pollen sprinkling like pixie-dust on the snowy white ground. _But what does it matter, anyway?_ He asked himself, cynically.

His door opened quietly and a cheerful middle-aged man poked his head in, smiling softly. His unnatural violet eyes twinkled behind his wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Good Evening, Master Malfoy." He said, walking into the room, raising his wand and bidding the curtains to drift close. The curtains folded into fullness slowly, plunging the room almost at once into dusky darkness. "How are you feeling?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow. Well, monotonous questions deserved monotonous answers. "I'm feeling alright." He drawled, slightly mockingly. "Thank you, Healer Alphonzo." The man chuckled. "I have asked you quite a lot of times in the past to address me as Amos." He told the Malfoy Heir. "I have asked you, I believe, an equal number of times to address me as Draco." Draco retorted, dryly.

"Fair enough, Master Malfoy." The Healer replied, turning his attention to the boy's thunderous mood, taking it in quietly. "Family visited, today?" he asked, kindly, though he did not really expect a reply. Draco was silent; he did not disappoint.

'Family', what a sacred word, how important they were, he thought. Every word, every diminutive action they performed had the power to tilt your whole world on its axis. _No problem there_, he thought, his thoughts prejudiced, _father and mother had known exactly what to do to tilt my world._

His family had been, once, feared and revered throughout the wizarding world. What normal wizard or witch didn't quake at the name 'Malfoy'? His father had been the be all and end all of the Ministry once upon a time. Rich, powerful, ethereally handsome, even the Wizengamot danced to Lucius Malfoy's tunes. He was the epitome of all-round perfection, the perfect son, perfect husband, perfect father and many years down the lane, _perfect_ slave to Voldemort. Everything he touched turned into proverbial gold.

His mother, she was the embodiment of all the qualities his father had wanted in a wife. Draco had always known there was no love lost between them. As long as his mother was discreet, Draco's father usually left her to her own devices and he had his own clique of admirers, of course. All Narcissa was to Lucius was a trophy wife of sorts, he kept her by his side, clothed her in the finest silks and the most precious of gems and gave her the freedom to do all that she wanted, providing she hosted his parties and approved of his guest lists.

Draco had been raised by house-elves, his parents somewhere in the back-ground to approve or disapprove of the cloths they made him wear and the way they styled his hair.

As far his parents were concerned, they had an ideal life, a life like in the fairy tales until the war descended upon them and everything changed. The Light, of course, won the war and almost all the death-eaters were rounded up and thrown into Azkaban. Draco snorted, having had to put an entire fist in his mouth to not tell his Father, that that's what you get for licking the boots of a clearly crazy man. The Malfoy name had still had some sort of worth and with Potter testifying for his mother and Draco himself; the entire family had somehow escaped persecution.

His father had settled somewhat and his mother had stopped holding trysts and for a little while, Draco had somehow been convinced that everything was going to be fine, after all; that maybe somewhere there was a God looking down kindly at him, after all.

That's when they had discovered his condition…..

To their credit, however, they had ached for the little boy who had had all his hopes and dreams crushed in a moment, whose bright, sunny future- for what other kind of future _could_ he have? He had worked hard to ensure that it would be so- had turned into an endless abyss of darkness.

His father had initially outright refused to believe. He had insisted, and been extremely vocal about his opinion that no heir of his could be victim to such an abominable disease. Draco remembered that he had always been his father's _heir_, never his son. He recalled his mother looking down her nose at him and her eyes glazing in distaste. "Am I expected to bear another heir for you, Lucius?" She had asked, almost heartlessly, and Draco had simply _ached_ with the need to cry. He remembered how Healer Alphonzo had sneered and the exact derisive tone of his voice when he told Draco's father 'sickness is never a crime, Mr. Malfoy, it is a condition and most of them curable at that.'

"Mother wants me transferred to New York." Draco told his Healer, presently. "Apparently, she still has hope that if I can be cured, she won't have to give Father another Heir." He snorted. "The poor, deluded woman." His voice was bitter and his smile, humorless.

The Healer sighed and carried on chanting, his hand held over the boy's abdomen and glowing green. Ignoring the man and his crooning voice, Draco let his mind wander again.

He harked back to the evening after the visit to the Healer. The yelling and the cursing, his father throwing around things and his mother pleading at him to stop, lest they have visitors and someone comes to know….

He was the taint, the black sheep, the little tear in the seam of otherwise blameless cloth; the streak of black in pure white, the fault in the otherwise faultless portrait of his flawless family. His father had made good use of what little contacts he had left, unheeding of his mother's advice not to ruin the family name even more by letting people know of the state of affairs at home.

Few people had been sympathetic, "Poor little thing." They said or "Nice young boy, really, though maybe a little weak." And sometimes, "He always seemed so very healthy to me, even though rather on the thin side…" Others not so much, "He deserves it really, for all his flaunting…" And "People always get what they deserve, in the end." He had borne everything with the dignity his station in life demanded.

His so called friends had abandoned him in favor of healthier people and the only person he still kept in touch with was Blaise Zabini. That was only because that kind of closeness was not something you give up for anything. Blaise was the first person in the arms of whom he cried. Blaise had cried with him, his chin on Draco's bent head and his strong arms around his friend's shaking frame. "It's going to be okay, mate." He remembered Blaise telling him. "You've come out of worse with your sanity intact." Draco had tried to believe him, _really_ tried.

He hadn't succeeded.

His father had finally led him here. "It's a nice place, Draco, for people like you." He had said. "They take very good care of their…._patients_." People like you….he said, how quickly, how easily, they had isolated him, not that he had ever been connected to his parents in that primal way all parents and children were connected. He had agreed, politely. If they had no qualms about letting him go, then he could very well extend the same favor to them.

That had been his first experience with "St. Barakiel's", the more sophisticated version of St. Mungo's, for the more affluent. To their credit, the hospital was lovely. They kept it that way, the nurse giving them the tour said, smiling gently at Draco, to give the residents there hope. "Hope." He had echoed after her, tickled by the irony. 'Hope in a Hospital.' It was a cosmic joke of some sort. Hope was something vital, he supposed to man's continued survival. Yet, most people he knew, including himself, needed but the slightest of reasons to lose it. He wondered how people still existed and why they had not become extinct like Manticores.

Thus, he would say, he met the acquaintance of the place where he was going to spend, he supposed and hoped it wasn't true, the rest of his miserable existence.

"Master Malfoy." The Healer's voice brought his wandering thoughts back to the now. He raised his eyebrows in query. The Healer put his thumb on Draco's wrist. The pulse beat steady and strong under his enquiring finger and he met Draco's eyes significantly. Healer Alphonzo's eyes were gentle, coaxing and they seemed to be begging him not to give up. He nodded, faintly.

Draco didn't want to be responsible for anyone losing their hope. He hoped to Merlin that the good man's hope anchored him all his natural life.

The door opened slowly. "Healer Alphonzo, your new patient has arrived." The nurse chirped, almost happily. Both the Healer and the young boy raised their eyebrows in perfect synchronization. The woman at the door continued smiling and it looked far too cheerful to be ideal on the face of someone who frequented shifts at a hospital. "I'm coming." The Healer said, and turned to collect his wand from Draco's bedside where he had paced it before the physical examination. He gave Draco a pat on his head, "Smile." He chided, flashing the boy one of his own. Then he walked out of the room.

Draco curled into himself as soon as the door shut and let himself drift off into oblivion.

XxX

"Move the bishop." Draco told the woman, his eyes focused with an almost scary intensity on the chessboard. She grinned as the bishop moved and cruelly smashed her husband's horse into pieces. "Checkmate." She said, proudly. The man grimaced.

"I could have used some help too." He told Draco, slightly put off. Draco smiled, slightly, amused. "Maybe next time, honey, isn't that right, young man?" The woman winked at Draco. He moved away quietly leaving the couple to continue their game. Things happened all at once and too fast to comprehend.

Draco heard a warning shout in a very familiar voice and started. Before he could turn and check though, a huge mass of sleek black fur hurled itself at him. He tried to brace himself but could not stop the rather inevitable fall in time. He went down in a tangle of limbs unable to catch himself in time or take the dead weight pressed smack-dab in the middle of his chest. He felt a wet, rough tongue lap at his face and grimaced in disgust.

He opened his eyes, cautiously.

A pair of innocent, shining black button orbs gazed back at him. Then the owner of the pair of button eyes leaned close and licked his face again, from the tip of his ear to the corner of his mouth. It was like time stood still for a moment as he stared down the obnoxiously friendly dog.

Draco lifted a hand to push the –_thing_- the hell away from him when he heard a hoarse call.

The dog's owner came flying down the stairs and stopped short when he saw the blonde. Draco's eyes took in the shaggy, eternally messy midnight black hair, the tasteless round glasses and the goblin green eyes shining behind them and suddenly his heart beat faster and slower at the same time. The dog gave a short bark and that spurned the frozen boy into action. "Sirius, honestly." He reprimanded, sharply, pulling at the dog by his collar. The dog gave a joyful bark and slobbered all over his hand. He held his clean hand out to Draco. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, here let me help you." He said, with a friendly smile.

Draco ignored the boy's greeting, his hand and his own stupid traitorous heart for feeling stupidly happy to see a familiar face and got up on his own. Brushing himself off, he glared at the boy from the corner of his eyes. "Potter, what an….unpleasant surprise." He drawled. Going red and feeling rather foolish, Harry pulled his hand back and put them in his jean pocket. Sensing Draco's discomfort at being covered in dog spit, even with the hostility he exuded, Harry pulled out a clean cotton handkerchief and handed it to him.

Draco took it from his hand, none-too-gratefully and wiped his face. Then he turned and looked straight into Potter's shining- _why were they so bright?_ - eyes. "I'll have it washed and sent to you, Potter." He informed the boy curtly. Harry smiled. "Oh that's alright, really. You can…" Draco did not let him complete. "I am not keeping it. I will have it washed and sent to you." He repeated. He put the soiled handkerchief into his pocket and abruptly, he turned and walked inside.

Harry stood staring after his once school-yard nemesis, a faraway look in his jaded green orbs. The dog moved closer as if sensing his distress. Sirius nudged at Harry's palm with his wet nose and he absently curled his fingers around the dog's collar and pulled him closer. Sirius whined.

Harry smiled, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. This time, his smile was sad, an oxymoron really, for how can a smile be truly sad?

"His eyes, Siri." Harry told the dog, the dog on whose forehead a bright white starburst stood in stark contrast to the rest of his jet black fur, the dog whom Harry had named after his dearly beloved Godfather. "His eyes are so blank…" He said, quietly, contemplatively almost. "I think perhaps, what Draco needs the most right now, is a friend who won't judge."

The dog whined again, his way of agreeing with his young master. When Harry turned and walked indoors, Sirius following at his heels, there was a new spring to his steps. Perhaps, just perhaps, the world could use the Savior once more.

XxX

He stood in line, tiredly.

There was no point to this really, he thought, his eyes aching and gritty. He resisted the urge to rub them. _You must eat something, though,_ a sensible part of his worn-out mind insisted. _Why_, he argued back, _why should I eat when I'm not even remotely hungry_?

Then he shook his head, a slight self-depreciating smile dawning across his lips.

_Now I'm talking to myself, while standing in the queue for food, in plain sight,_ he thought dryly. What did a monotone routine life in a hospital do to a person's sanity? He collected his salad bowl, decided against the main course and made his way to an empty table. He didn't feel like company tonight. In fact, he never felt like company these days. Just another quirk, acquired in another lifetime. He chuckled quietly, wondering to himself what had been so funny about that thought.

He cradled his face in his palm and let it loll to a side.

He pushed around his salad with a fork, his mind and thoughts a million miles away. His happy-place, he thought wistfully, was someplace where there were no people at all. He would have the whole world to himself, just him and perhaps a few Manticores, since they were extinct anyway and as long as he was dreaming, he would be perfectly healthy and-

"Hey." Masculine, he thought absently, noting the husky tenor of the voice. And familiar, he added, crossing his fingers when that thought finally sunk in. He looked up, uninterested and his eyes met smiling, _shining,_ -_why were they so bright, anyway? Was Potter stupid?_ - moss green eyes. "Can I sit here, Malfoy?" Harry asked after a pause, grinning as if in an effort to melt the ice at the poles- all straight pearly white teeth on display. Draco nodded, without a smile and stood, collecting his untouched salad. "Sure, enjoy your dinner, Potter." He said, wryly.

"No wait, don't go. I meant can I sit here with you, prat." Harry said, hurriedly, upset. Unexpectedly, Draco's lips curled into a small smile. "You could have killed Voldemort with your pesky persistence if nothing else." He commented, surprising Harry with the careless use of the Dark Lord's name. Harry grinned. "How do you know I _didn't_ kill him with my, 'pesky persistence'?" He asked, using air quotes. Draco shook his head, smile still in place, in a slightly better mood than he had been.

"I'm done for today, Potter." He offered, making an effort to be polite. "Perhaps tomorrow?" He would skip dinner altogether tomorrow, he promised himself, his eyes shuttered.

"But…" He turned his back to the flailing boy deliberately, hoping that that would kill Potter's optimism and walked to the waste bin. He gently lowered his unfinished, _untouched_ rather, salad into it, feeling a nasty prick of guilt.

"Malfoy, least you can do for baling on me is calling me Harry." Harry called out, almost desperately.

Draco turned to face the dark-haired boy. He shrugged. "Okay, if it'll keep you off my back, Harry it is." And he turned and walked away, praying to anyone who was listening to let Potter take the hint and stay away. As he walked up to his suit, he wondered why he hadn't extended the boy the same favor. He didn't actually have anyone to please here or anyone's standards to live up to except his own. Once upon a time, he would have been glad to have the boy call him by his given name. _That hasn't changed actually_, he mused, sardonically.

For some unphantomable reason, he wished he had asked Potter- Harry- to call him Draco.

Shrugging, he put Harry and all the confusing miasma of thoughts and emotions that came with him out of his mind. He was simply too tired to stand toe-to-toe with Potter like he had done a million times in the past. Back then, he had had something to lose. Now, well, peace and isolation was the way to go. At least that way, no one would spit on his grave. Someone might have even been so grateful to him for leaving them alone that they placed flowers on his head stone. He snorted. One could only hope.

Behind Draco, in the cafeteria, Harry smiled triumphantly.

XxX

Draco fluffed up the pillows impatiently. Pulling the comforter aside, he climbed on the bed, kneeling close to the edge with his feet sticking out and slapped his heels together to dislodge the remaining dust. It was a habit he had formed early on, when sometimes the house-elves forgot to give him his bath and he had take one himself and run naked and barefoot all the way to his bed and tiny dust particles stuck to his feet. He hated the grainy feeling and the habit had begun out of sheer frustration and he couldn't seem to break it no matter how clean his feet were before he got into bed.

_Oh well_, he supposed, _some things are not worth stressing over._

He sank with a soft, pleasurable sigh down into the mattress. Immediately he felt the rush of comfort that came with knowing that he could lose himself for awhile, till the rising sun brought with it a new miserable day. He lived day in and day out waiting on tenterhooks for the night, the time when he could lose himself in dreams, dreams of times when he would attend Wizarding University and become an 'Arguer', dreams of when he would work his way up and clear the stain his father had placed on the Malfoy name and bring his family up to a respectable status again. He dreamt of a world where Draco Malfoy was married to a nice witch, not one he necessarily loved, but coveted as a dear friend, perhaps with a son whom he promised himself he wouldn't raise as his father had raised him. He would love and nurture his family and build up a solid reputation of his own, _all on his own_.

Draco lived, mostly for the night, night- when he could lay all his inhibitions, guiltlessly- to rest.

He burrowed into his soft cotton pillow and gently shut his eyes. The comforting hiss of the cooler in the background- use of magic on grounds by anyone but the Healer himself was not authorized- lulled him closer, yet, to oblivation. Very slowly, the darkness crept around his eyes and his face slipped into a small, cozily content smile-

He was pulled sharply back into awareness by a gentle knock on his door.

He jerked awake; his stormy silver-grey eyes wide and sat up, his back ramrod straight on the bed. His heart thumped urgently and he put a hand to his chest, feeling faint, moaning gently as perspiration build up on his forehead. The knock came again and his hands shook. He calmed himself down with a mammothan effort and stood unsteadily. He dragged his feet to the door, trying to convince himself that they did not feel like lead.

Before the person on the other side could knock again, he pulled open the door a scant few inches and poked his head out, cautiously. The boy on the other side smiled, nervously. "Hullo, Malfoy, did I wake you?" Rather distressed to find that he had to look up to meet the Hero's eyes, he shook his head, numbly.

The dog beside him barked quietly. Harry glanced down at him sharply. "Heel, Sirius." He barked. The dog dropped immediately to a half-crouch and fell completely still and silent. "Potter!" Draco exclaimed when he found his voice. "Harry." He corrected the blonde smiling. "Harry." Draco repeated, duly. He shook his head. "It's after lights out, what are you doing here?" Draco wondered in a moment of insanity if he was dreaming.

"Never was much of a follower of rules, remember?" Harry asked, with a wink.

He was dressed simply in a soft crimson sweater and black pajama pants. He put his hand into his pants and pulled out a hastily wrapped packet and held it out to Draco. He took in hesitantly from Harry and gently peeled off the covering. He saw a croissant, a bowl of mashed potatoes and a chocolate frog. Not knowing whether to be amused or distressed at the eclectic mix of food, he raised an eyebrow enquiringly at Harry.

"You didn't eat your dinner, today." Harry said, shrugging. "I thought you might be hungry."

That was just so sweet and so _simply Harry_ that Draco felt his eyes water a little bit. "I…I beg your pardon?" Draco whispered, afraid to simply accept the gesture as friendly and hoping his voice didn't come off sounding as hopeful as he had felt it had. Perhaps he had been starving for more contact than he thought he was.

Harry gestured simply to the packet in Draco's hands, smiling; all lips with a hint of pearly white teeth. "Eat, you git." He whispered, almost fondly.

The light overhead lit him with a strange, almost ethereal glow and his raven hair looked to Draco like it had pale blue highlights via the moonlight streaming in beams through the un-curtained window. _Angel_, Draco thought, dazed for a moment; then he cocked his head to the side, actually more like an incubus demon, he mused. _Harry Potter was a devastatingly handsome boy_, Draco realized silently, in the darkness and quiet of his most private thoughts.

"Come Sirius." Harry told the dog, his voice firm, even as it was quiet. The dog rose obediently. He turned to go. Suddenly every living pore in Draco's body screamed at him to not let Harry go, not let someone else walk away from him, which was clearly ridiculous because Potter wasn't going anywhere, not really. Helpless, he obeyed. "Would you, maybe, like to come in for a little while?" He asked, quickly. When his brain caught up with his mouth, he gave himself a tight mental slap. He bit his tongue to keep himself from actually rescinding the invitation.

Harry turned, smiling happily. "Sure." He sounded almost giddy with excitement, like he was entering some forbidden territory. Draco sneered, inwardly and held the door open for him.

"Stay, Sirius." Harry told the sleek black beast. He whined unhappily, but dropped obediently beside the door. "He can come in." Draco said, surprising himself. "I don't really mind." He was apparently not lying, even to himself, he was startled to note. Harry glanced quickly down at Draco, his eyes assessing. "Thanks Malfoy, but no. He will be fine out here." He walked inside and Draco shut the door gently after him.

"Nice." Harry told Draco, smiling, his eyes taking in the room. "But it needs a little color, though." He paused, thoughtfully. "Maybe a few photos or something?" Draco shrugged. "Family photos are not very good for my general mood." He said, leaving it at that. Harry took the hint and sat on the bean-bag placed in the corner of the room. Draco watched him, nibbling on the croissant.

"You know, if I can call you Harry, you should call me Draco." He said when Harry had settled comfortably on the bean bag. Harry smiled amused. "It's not some big favor you have to return. I can still call you Malfoy if you're more comfortable with that." Draco shook his head. "Draco." He insisted. Harry grinned, pleased. "If it will get you off my back, Draco it is." He parroted and Draco cracked a small smile.

Silence settled between them as Draco ate.

Harry sat watching him, quietly. Draco looked up suddenly. "You must pardon me, Potter." He said, abruptly. Harry raised a curious eyebrow. "I _am_ grateful to you, you know, yesterday for the handkerchief and today for…" He gestured at the food in his hands. "I'm just…" He shrugged, helplessly. "I've been rather poor at emoting since the end of the war." He said, with a self-depreciating smile.

"Is that why you're here then?" Draco froze and Harry looked rather affronted himself. Before Draco could say anything, Harry spoke, softly, apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry, Mal- Draco." He wrung his hands and stood. "Please, pardon my insensitivity." He smiled, poking fun at himself. "I guess you know by now that my foot lives permanently in my mouth." Draco stared. "I really _should_ think before speaking." Harry seemed almost scarily ashamed of himself. He glanced up at Draco, "You don't have to answer that, of course."

Draco decided to put the boy out of his misery. "It's alright, really." He said, sounding amused. "I'm not offended, Potter." "Harry." He corrected, reflexively. "Harry. No, that's not why I'm here." Draco chuckled. "I'm here because of my…" He stopped himself, almost horrified, his eyes wide.

Harry watched Draco quietly for a moment or two. Silence reigned. Then he walked to Draco's side and raised his chin with his index finger. Draco looked up, eyes turbulent grey and anguished. Harry's eyes mellowed and became almost tender. "I really don't care why you're here, Draco." He smoothed his hand over Draco's smooth cheek and he stiffened under Harry's touch. "I'd like to be your friend, regardless." Harry held out his hand. "Will you do me that honor?" Draco glanced down at the hand held out to him. _This was one of those break or make moments_, he mused. He could take his revenge on Potter right now. He could refuse his hand and humiliate and hurt him like the boy himself had done when Draco had offered his own hand.

He glanced into Harry's dancing hopeful green eyes and took in his shy, coaxing smile.

And Draco lifted his hand and put it in the Savior's hand, his paleness against the boy's golden brown tan. "Draco Malfoy." He said, smiling. "It's nice to meet you, _finally_, Harry Potter." It seemed like a beginning. Harry smiled like he had conquered the world. "Pleasure's all mine, Draco." He leered, his eyes _freaking_ glowing. Draco chuckled quietly.

After a hurried glance at his watch and a farewell, Harry left, a few hours of sleep poorer, yet filled with so much peace he believed it was _simply_ worth the tiredness and depression that would be clawing at him all day tomorrow.

Back in the room, Draco curled into himself on his bed. Sleep wouldn't come anyway, not with his mind as pleasantly busy as it was. He set his head down on the pillow and his lips curled upwards. As he settled to wait the night away, he let his mind and his thoughts wander free.

XxX

Months passed, crawling at first, and then walking, then running and then it flew almost right out of his hands….

Before Draco knew it, a whole year had passed. It was December again and nearing Christmas.

He sat under the Christmas tree, his eyes staring almost blankly at nothing. This past year with Potter, he realized, he hadn't even been counting the days. He wondered why he had stopped. He wondered why he had not noticed that his parents had stopped visiting or that he never replied to Blaise's urgent letters anymore.

Harry, he had given Draco the entire consideration one would give a precious child to adjust to new surroundings and new people. Draco had been very weary at first, not very used to people doing things for him unless they wanted to bask in the glory of the Malfoy name or simply get him into bed. But, Harry had seemed inclined to do neither. Even so, Draco flinched back at the slightest indication that Harry was getting too close.

Harry freed Draco from his shell slowly, peeling off layer after layer of insecurity and fear of commitment-one caused by years of neglect- one at a time, like unwrapping a much awaited gift. He never rushed, lingering and careful, never allowing the wraps to even crinkle slightly under his fingers and when Draco closed up, he backed away at once, allowing Draco to deal with it on his own, assuring him gently that they had '_all the time in the world_.'

Draco sometimes caught himself smiling softly at Harry when he somersaulted over the grass with Sirius or when he agreed to marry the crinkled old witch with amnesia because she liked his _beautiful young eyes_. Harry changed the entire atmosphere of the hospital, drawing out one resident at a time after another. He brought smiles to people's faces by just being in the same room as them, people coveted the boy's presence because he was _Harry_ and not because he rid the world of one of the most evil wizards to walk it. He was _Harry_, with shining green eyes, crinkled at the corners and a bright sunny smile, husky voice, gentle reassuring words and the warmest damn hugs Draco had ever received in his life.

With an almost scary intensity and careful perseverance, Harry finally reached the last of his road-blocks, the almost impenetrable wall Draco had constructed over the years around his heart.

He took his time with it. Gently, he grew Draco out, telling him stories about his own childhood, the Dursleys and how he had made his peace with them soon after the war, when he had gone for a condolence visit after Uncle Vernon's unexpected death. He told Draco how Aunt Petunia had pulled him close and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing against his chest, apologizing for every time she had hurt his feelings. Harry described how his eyes had watered when he stood in her arms, feeling the warmth of a mother figure for perhaps the first time in his life, not counting Mrs. Weasley's crushing hugs.

He told Draco how Dudley had gripped his hand, awkwardly, looming above Harry and had told him gruffly that, 'you're okay, Potter.' Harry laughed then and explained that coming from Dudley that was like an Order of Merlin, First Class. Draco had chuckled. He made Draco laugh until he had cried when he described some of the pranks he had helped the twins pull on Ginny that involved a lot of hair cream and rainbow colored hair and singing freckles. Draco had cracked up, commenting on how painful that might have been considering how many freckles the Weasley's supposedly had. Harry had simply smiled and smiled and smiled.

He had snorted once, spilling tea all over himself when Harry had told him about Ron's gag-prank, a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs and a box of teeny tiny condoms, just as he was about to drink it. Draco had punched him hard on his bicep for that and Harry had smiled like an angel.

Draco listened attentively when Harry had stressed that he had grown from childhood to adolescence and from there into an adult literally with the Weasleys and it had been a roller-coaster ride, tiring, yet rewarding in many many ways. He led Draco, holding his hands, his presence warm by Draco's side through all the chapters of his life and through the doors and down the corridors of his memory lane.

Gradually, Draco had begun to talk back, finding common and impersonal topics like Hogwarts and Quidditch. If Harry noticed that he never talked about his family or his friends other than Blaise, he never mentioned it. It was a taboo as far as Draco was concerned and Harry respecting his wishes, never once broached the topic.

Until, one day, as Harry had been describing his encounter with his parents through the Mirror of Erised, the longing clear in his voice and his eyes and Draco had without warning felt the tears leak out of his eyes and he had been simply powerless to _stop_. It was as if the dams had cracked when Harry had first begun talking to Draco and the crack had widened until nothing could be kept safely behind it anymore. Harry had stopped talking and pulled Draco as close to him as he would allow and rocked him as Draco had cried, harsh wracking sobs, his face pressed into Harry's shoulder, tears soaking through Harry's shirt.

When he had been _finally_ able to calm himself enough to speak, Harry had rubbed at his back, his palm moving in gentle circles and Draco had blurted out all that he had seen, heard and felt all these years and never spoken of to anyone. He had told Harry how insignificant a part of his family he had always felt, how he always felt like a monkey at the zoo when his parents came to visit. He told Harry how he put his hands through the bars pleading for some sign that they cared like the monkey did for peanuts and how they refused and turned their backs to him.

He listed, one by one, sometimes crying, all the indignities he had been through with Voldemort in the Manor. How he had finally killed Greyback to protect himself and Pansy and how she had never spoken to him once after that. Harry's arms had tightened around Draco then, his face buried in Draco's hair, laying a kiss there, reassuring, always comforting, being the solid warmth he had simply longed for all this time_, solid blessed_ warmth.

Draco had evaded Harry for a few days after that, embarrassed beyond words for crying on him like that. But Harry had sought him out, assuring him that it was all-right and sometimes even the bravest of people deserved to cry for all that they regretted and all that they had lost. Draco had become a lot more genuine and open with Harry after that and as the seconds had turned into minutes and minutes had turned into hours, days, weeks and months, Harry had taught him to smile; truly and honestly with his eyes.

Presently, Draco smiled as he heard a loud bark.

Sirius came bounding into the room and stilled for a moment on seeing him, head cocked to a side. Draco held out his arms and the dog, letting out a joyful bark bounded into them. "Hello there." Draco said, softly into the dog's clean, soft fur. Sirius swiped his tongue over Draco's ear. Chuckling, the boy nuzzled the dog's nose. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Oh, be still my beating heart." Harry exclaimed, dramatically, staggering into the room, one hand held over his heart. Draco looked up grinning. "I was talking to Sirius, idiot." He reached over and smacked Harry on his arm. Harry gasped. "How you wound me, Brutus." He cried, playfully. "How can you claim to love another when I have been here all along?" He dimpled at Draco.

Draco threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh, hang on." He reached into his sweater pocket and pulled out a wrapped gift. "I want you to have this." He said, taking Draco's hand and placing it gently in his palm.

Surprised and rather delighted, he pulled the ribbon off the slight parcel and peeled the wrapping gently. Harry sat down on the floor beside him and watched, smiling. Draco stared speechlessly at the small yellow teddy-bear with silver buttons for eyes, grinning with small enamel teeth. In its arms, it held a black heart with italicized jade green writing on it that said "I love you for all of Eternity."

Eyes wide open and rather alarmed, he glanced up at Harry. The smoky intensity of his eyes made Draco's breath catch quite abruptly in his throat and he gulped, discreetly. His eyes welled up suddenly and he shook his head, feeling annoyed at himself. Harry moved closer and crooking a finger under his chin, made him look up into his smiling green eyes. "Read the card, love." He drawled, grinning.

Draco, feeling like he was in a limbo, extracted the tiny card from the ripped wrapping paper and placing the teddy bear gently in his lap, he flipped the card- wishing the recipient a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year on the front-open

It said-(in Harry's chicken scrawl)

**Draco love, **

**Merry Christmas! **

**You know, I've heard Mrs. Weasley say to Ginny every time she cries, "Never stop smiling sweetie, because you never know when someone might be watching and falling in love with your smile." **

**And I think, lucky you then, Draco, because you didn't even have to actually smile to make me fall in love with you. Look up…and pucker up, pronto! **

**Lots of love (and kisses if you allow me), **

**Yours forever,**

**Harry**

He looked up, his heart thumping as if it wanted to jump right out of his chest.

"Well?" Harry breathed, his eyes shining impossibly green. Once again, all Draco had to do was look away and shake his head, and he could _break_ the boy without lifting a finger. The thought did not even cross his mind as he flung his arms around Harry, pressing himself close to the Hero's warmth. "Harry…" He whispered, against his neck, trying not to cry. "Harry, I…" Suddenly, he was shaking and there was perspiration beading across his forehead. "Hush, Draco, love….calm down." Harry urged, holding him close. Draco was breathing hard now, his vision swimming dizzyingly.

"Harry…" He breathed out, his eyes closing, as Harry's arms went around him and his husky voice summoned him back urgently. _It doesn't matter now_, he thought, _someone doesn't want me to die….._

XxX

He came to consciousness slowly, like swimming up from quicksand. His eyes felt gritty and heavy and he felt like he was tied down to whichever surface he lay on. As he regained more of his senses, he felt the soft Egyptian cotton quilt under his searching fingers. He heard a familiar husky voice rise pleadingly and he flinched. That voice should never sound so hurt, he thought indignantly. He opened his heavy eyes to see if maybe he could do something about the pain in that voice.

"Welcome back, Master Malfoy."

Healer Alphonzo smiled gently at him and leaned closer. "How are you feeling?" Draco frowned; this was not the voice he had heard. "I'm okay." He croaked. His hand was taken into another, warmer one. He turned his head slightly. Harry hovered over his face, looking for all the world like he had died and been resurrected. "Draco." He breathed when Draco flashed him as much a smile as he could muster. "I'm okay." He repeated, in a stronger voice.

Harry leaned down and kissed him.

Draco groaned and shut his eyes, kissing back, almost desperately. The Healer cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling. Harry pulled back with an embarrassed smile and Draco almost wished he hadn't woken up. "I'll leave you to it, then, if you're feeling better Master Malfoy." His eyes regarded Draco over the top of his glasses. Draco nodded, firmly. "I'm okay." He said, for the third time. The Healer nodded. "Please don't exert him too much, Mr. Potter." He added as he closed the door, with a smirk. Harry blushed.

Draco took Harry's hand in his. "How long have I been out?" He asked. Harry's eyes looked away from his. "About two days." He replied, his voice breaking. Draco shook his head and took Harry's chin in his fingers. "Hey." He tugged gently at Harry's ear-lobe, "Hey. Look at me, Harry." Harry turned anguished eyes to him. "I'm alright." Draco whispered, lifting Harry's hand to his lips and kissing the palm. "I'm okay, now, I promise."

Harry's lips trembled and he nodded, leaning down for Draco's lips again. They shared a sweet, lingering kiss and Harry pulled back, laying a wet kiss at the corner of Draco's mouth.

"Have you slept at all these past two days, prat?" Draco asked him, crossly, spying the dark circles and the bloodshot green eyes. Harry climbed into bed with him in answer and grinned cheekily at Draco. He wrapped the duvet around them both and pulled Draco flush against him. "Sleep, now, Dre." He whispered, against Draco's hair. Draco snuggled closer, searching for warmth and closed his eyes.

He could in all probability get used to this.

XxX

The rain splattered on the glass windows with an almost ruthless intensity.

It was storming outside; the sort of storms that mothers used as a ruse to lure children into bed. The rain came down hard in drops as big as bullets, hitting the asphalt, the fog rising and swirling a few inches of the ground. Visibility was almost zero. His eyes dilated with pleasure, he watched the rain. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer to a warm body.

He grinned.

"Solid warmth is always….mhm…nice…" Draco murmured, leaning into Harry's warmth. Harry hummed in agreement and kissed his neck, gently. Draco shivered and closed his eyes. Harry moved suddenly, the arm around Draco's waist tightening and his other arm sneaking higher and across and forming a band around Draco's chest. Draco struggled in his arms for a second and Harry let go of him, surprised. "Don't." Draco said, his eyes shuttered. "Don't ever hold me down." Harry's eyes were sad when he replied. "I'm sorry." He said, calmly, his voice bleeding with guilt.

"I only wanted to move us to the couch." He pointed at the leather recliner in the corner of the huge room. Draco smiled, with an effort. He held Harry's hand and pulled him to the recliner. "All you had to do was say so, Harry." He chided gently, pushing Harry onto it and settling against him. Harry smiled gently into Draco's hair and tightened his arms around the boy.

Draco shifted closer and laid his head on Harry's shoulder. He shut his eyes and let the calm of being in the arms of one of the people he coveted the most in the world, now, wash over him. _How the tides have changed_, he mused. "I could get used to this and never let you go, you know." He whispered, almost loath to speak any louder and shatter the complacent atmosphere shrouding them. Harry shifted against him, too subtly to bother him and buried his face in Draco's soft blonde tresses.

All was quiet for awhile, the pitter-patter of the raindrops serving as a gentle background.

"Draco?" Harry's husky voice called him out of his drowsy, dreamy head-space and he cracked open an eye. "Hmm?" His voice was sleep-addled and content. Harry took a deep breath. "I…" He ran out of air and took a deep breath again. "I have…" His voice got stuck in his throat and he took another deep gulp of air. Draco put his arms around Harry, encouragingly, his eyes still shut, a small smile playing about his lips.

"I have something to tell you." Harry got out, awkwardly. The discomfort in his voice made Draco glance up at him, sharply. "What?" He whispered and regretted the impulsive question the moment it left his lips. Harry smiled sadly as he took in the fear that darkened Draco's stormy quick-silver eyes and the slight tightening of the skin around his mouth. Draco was terrified and Harry could not bear the thought of telling him what he had in mind.

A loud barking sound echoed around the room and Sirius came prancing in. Draco stood, leaving Harry's arms abruptly and pulled Sirius close as if seeking comfort. He looked up at Harry again. "Well?" he asked, in anticipation, tension, a tight coil in his stomach.

Harry nodded at Sirius. "He's celebrating, you know. His master's in love." He informed Draco seriously. Immediately, relief broke out on his face and to Harry it looked like the blissfully warm sun coming out after a wretchedly cold day. Draco smiled, shyly, standing. "Did you tell him?" He asked Harry, his eyes laughing. Harry shook his head. "I don't know how he'll take it." Draco moved closer. "I think, maybe you could convince him that you're perfect for him." Harry's eyes danced and he held out his arms for the blonde. Without a second thought, Draco moved into them. "You think?" He whispered into Draco's hair.

"I know." Draco said, his voice muffled by Harry's sweater.

Over Draco's head, Harry Potter smiled mirthlessly at Sirius. He would tell him, sure, just not today and just not like this, when Draco was warm and willing, soft and pliant in his arms, especially not when he had so very little time to savor it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Enjoy. And please review.

**Disclaimer**: No profit is being made out of this harmless work of fiction, promise!

**Dear Blaise, **

**Can you believe me now; if I tell you that I am the happiest I've been since birth? **

**Harry Potter is here, here at St. Barakiel's. And you wouldn't believe the changes in attitude he's brought about here. Everyone is happier than they have ever been, though most of them have a certain death looming on the horizon. What Harry's doing, you have to see to believe. **

**I think, I should tell you, I'm in love with him, B. So in love that I wouldn't know mum's face from father's if he were around. Because, I'd be too busy watching him…**

**I have to say, though, I didn't expect to want to live anymore than I could. But now, I want to Blaise, I want to spend all of eternity watching him, and I doubt even then, he'll stop surprising me. I never thought I would get it back you know; this burning desire, the will to do anything in order to live. **

**Healer Alphonzo said that he's looking into options for me. **

**They've found two other people with the same blood type as me. He hopes that once they replace my heart, I can heal, he hopes that I can get better Blaise, and that hope is enough, in fact, to keep me going and fight for my life with all my might. **

**You must think, what a change about, right? I owe it to Harry, B; I have owed almost everything to him my entire life. My parent's life, mine, who would have thought that he would come about and save my sanity as well?**

**I don't know why he's here; Blaise and I hope with all my heart, it's not something that will take him away from me. **

**Write back, soon, mate, I miss you with every breath I take. **

**Love,**

**Draco.**

XxX

"Mrs. Colinthorp, are you awake?"

Draco poked his head into the room, opening the door the slightest bit. The blinds were drawn and a rasping, hoarse cough answered him. He winced. "Come in, love." The woman got out between coughs. Draco walked in, shutting the door softly behind him. "I've brought you some soup." He said, gesturing with the tray he held in his hands. The woman smiled at him. "You look very familiar. Are you someone I know?" Draco's heart ached inside him and he closed his eyes for a moment.

Today was apparently, not one of her good days.

The woman was in an advanced stage of Alzheimer's. Her Healer was doing everything in his power, but apparently, when it came to illness like these, magic was as helpless as muggle medicine. The woman had been weathering the disease for closing on a decade and Draco wondered with a pang if she had finally given up.

He smiled softly at her and laid the tray on the nightstand beside her bed. "I come to help sometimes." He told her, gently. "I'm not anyone very important, Mrs. C" He added when the woman's eyes welled with tears, afraid that perhaps, again, she had forgotten someone who was very close to her. "Come; sit here with me, dear." She gestured to the corner of the bed. "Tell me something about yourself." Her hazy blue eyes watched him from an old wrinkled face. Draco thought that once, she might have been an extremely pretty woman.

"It is very sweet of you to come visit, child." The woman said, her eyes looking fondly upon Draco. "My children don't really bother anymore." Draco laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure they would if circumstances were favorable." Draco insisted, aching for the woman. "Please, drink your soup now, Mrs. C" The woman smiled gently at the boy and leaned back on the headboard allowing Draco to place the tray on the wooden stand that lay beside the bed. He picked up the stand and placed it on her lap, supported by stumps on either side of her hip.

Then he pulled out a towel from the rack near the bed and tucked it into the woman's neckline. He sat back and smiled. "Go ahead, Mrs. C. You _must_ be hungry; you haven't really eaten anything since last night." She leaned forward slightly and lifted a shaking hand. It took her four tries to get a correct grip on the soup spoon. As she was lifting it into her mouth, her hands shook horribly and she spilled almost all the soup she had managed to scoop up from the bowl on the towel Draco had wrapped around her. She looked up at Draco, tears of frustration stinging her eyes.

Draco smiled patiently at her. He took the spoon from her hand gently, "Here, let me help." He dipped the spoon into the bowl and lifted it to her trembling mouth. "Open." He whispered. Obediently, she parted her mouth and Draco poured the warm soup in trickles into her mouth. He fed her half the bowl in the same way before she told him that she was uncomfortably full. Draco agreed and pulled the towel off her neck, rubbing at her mouth with it. He put the wooden stand back and grabbed the tray.

"Sleep now" He bid. "Do you want me to call for Mr. C?" The woman bit her lip, her eyes welling again. "I know I'm married, but I can't remember his face." She hedged, big fat tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. Draco could not prevent the tears that erupted in his eyes. He kept the tray at the bottom of the bed and walked close to her. She looked so fragile and so lost and hurting for the woman he had been teaching the finer points of chess to for the past one year; who had become more mother to him than his own mother had ever been; he pulled her shivering frame into his arms.

"Hush, now, it'll be alright, you'll see." She shook her had against his chest. "No body blames you, Mrs. C" He soothed, trying to stem his tears, his voice trembling. "No one will ever blame you." He rocked her until her wracking sobs had softened into quiet sniffles and then he laid her head down on her pillow gently. "I'll send Mr. C up to you, alright?" He asked, gently. She nodded, her eyes drooping. He leant close and kissed her forehead. "Sleep." He whispered.

She closed her eyes, drained.

He stood watching her for a few moments, taking in the wrinkled, peaceful visage. Sleep at least, he mused, looked painless. His heart throbbed and he began sweating. Seeing those as signs that his own body was rebelling, he collected the soup bowl and the tray and made his way outside hurriedly, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "It's okay, now, calm the fuck down." He kept up a constant litany of soothing words in his mind and when his legs began to tremble, he stopped, and sank to the carpeted floor, leaning against the wall, breathing hard, even as his vision began to swim.

"Draco?" Someone called, breathlessly and knelt close to him, keeping a cool hand on his forehead. The voice spoke warbled words and things that sounded to him as if they were a different language. He ordered himself to forget the words and concentrate on the voice. The hand crept under his shirt and over his heart and Draco took a deep breath of air. He could feel his heart beat slowing. _I hope that doesn't mean I'm going to die_, he mused, humorlessly. He tried breathing again. His chest ached and beads of sweat broke out over his forehead. _Air_, he needed air. Bright spots danced in front of his open lids and he closed them, feeling nauseous. The hand holding him crept up into his hair and smoothed it. Then the hands lifted Draco's head and the owner of the pair of hands leaned down and pressed his lips to Draco's, breathing for him and rubbing his chest alternatively.

After about two minutes into the process, he began breathing easier and the world swam into focus when he opened his eyes. Harry looked down at him, his eyes filled with tears and terrified and his cheeks wet. He looked liked he had been scared a scant inch from his life. Draco smiled softly, his lips pliant and reached up a hand. Harry rubbed his cheek against the hand, his own otherwise busy holding Draco to him. "Please." He cried; his voice breaking. "_Please_, don't scare me like that." Draco smiled humorlessly. "I _really_ can't help it, Harry." He assured.

"Let's get you up." Harry said, flashing Draco a watered down version of his usually bright smile.

Wrapping his arms around Draco's slighter frame, Harry pulled him gently to his feet. Taking almost Draco's entire weight, he walked him to his room. "Wait, Harry, I got to let Mr. C know that…" "I'll handle it." Harry interrupted, his eyes intense, mouth set in a tense line. "You're going to lie down and take things easy for awhile." "I'm not an invalid, fucker." Draco snarled, abruptly angry, his eyes flashing dangerously. He pushed off Harry's arm. "Don't treat me like I'm some kind of fragile, breakable _thing_, do you understand me?" He snapped, wobbling. "Do you understand me, Potter?" Harry took a deep breath to keep from flying of the handle and took a step closer; "You need to understand that people want to take care of you because they care, asshole." He said, his voice low, menacing. "And you got to calm the _fuck _down, right now." He reached for Draco's arm.

"Don't." Draco barked, halting Harry in place.

"I can take care of myself, Potter. Have been doing the very same thing my entire life." He smiled a cold chilling smile that froze Harry's insides. "I have been a loner all my life, never made friends, never fell in love; _don't_ have to start now." He pulled away from Harry's outstretched hand and walked away, his arm around his chest, his face contorted and pale, staggering and moving with one hand on the wall.

Harry became aware of Sirius's presence when a wet tongue brushed his clenched fist. He turned and knelt, pulling the dog close and burying his head in the fur covering his neck. "I don't know what to do." He said, his voice breaking and he cried, hugging the dog to him, "What can I do to convince him I'll die if something happens to him, Sirius?" The dog whimpered in the face of his master's distress and licked Harry's cheek.

"I don't know what to do." Harry repeated, sinking to the floor, his head in his arms.

XxX

"Harry?" He looked up, his eyes shining. "I'm sorry." Draco blurted, his head bowed, posture tense.

Harry smiled, holding out his arms. Draco barreled into them, his own arms tightening around Harry. "I'm so sorry, Harry." He whispered against his neck. "I forgave you before you asked, love." He whispered into Draco's hair. "I am still very sorry." Draco said, pulling back and staring into his eyes.

Harry smiled cheekily.

"How sorry are you, exactly?" Draco grinned. "Sorry _enough_ to do anything that you want." He promised, looking at Harry from under his lashed. Harry's eyes danced and his lips tilted to a side, in an almost filthy leer. "Define anything." He whispered, the words caressing.

"_Anything_." Draco whispered and leaned up and claimed Harry's lips.

XxX

The sun shone bright high above his head and he smiled, happily.

_Once in a while_, he thought, leaning into the warm, dewy grass, _they had to have sunny weather in rainy Seathwaite, Cumbria. _"Well, Sirius?" He asked his squatting companion. "You feeling too lazy for a game of catch the snitch?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the fluttering golden ball.

The dog stared up at him rather miserably.

Harry stood, chuckling and brushed off his pants. The he bent and heaved the dog by his collar. He grunted, pulling the dog up to stand on his four feet, "You've grown mighty heavy, you lazy old thing." He commented, looking fondly at the dog. Sirius snorted, rather offended and flung his head to a side. Harry let go of his collar and feigning exhaustion, Sirius immediately dropped into a crouch again.

Harry let his knees give out and collapsed on top of Sirius. The dog let out a whine and licked Harry's nose. Harry laughed. "You're right, you know." He admitted. "No point being energetic on such a lovely day, anyway." He lay back and sighed when the sun's rays slanted over his face. He shut his eyes, slowly.

"Harry!" His eyes shot open when the first call came and he sat up, alarmed.

"Harry, where are you?" The voice keened. Harry's eyes flitted over to the swinging doors of the hospital that led outside and he waited, trying to get his fast breathing under control. Draco shot out of the door, swinging it shut with a bang behind him, his eyes blurry and cheeks flushed and wet with tears. Harry held out his arms quietly and crying out a mangled version of his name between heaving sobs, Draco ran into them.

Harry soothed him, holding him tight and close; his heart almost beating out of his rib-cage in fear and uncertainty. His eyes dilated in fright and he was terrified that Draco had extremely bad news for him. He had, never been so frightened in his life before, not even when he had been face to face with Voldemort himself. And despite all that, he held his voice steady and calm as he cooed to the whimpering boy in his arms, comforting him and trying to quell his tears.

"Shush, now, Draco, please. You have to calm down, whatever the problem is it'll be alright, I promise." Harry pulled Draco closer still, desperately. "Please, Draco, you _have_ to calm down." The words turned into a pattern of jumbles and he did not even realize what he was saying. All he knew was an intense desire to wrap Draco up in his arms and keep him safe from all his fears. Sub-consciously, he kept up a flow of comforting words and when he ran out of them, he hummed, squatting on the grass with Draco in his lap and rocked him.

As far as Draco was concerned, he was so gone in his grief that he did not even register Harry's words. Harry's voice, warm and reassuring washed over him like an enormous tidal wave, drowning him and easing his fears. He kept a firm hold on his mind, focusing on the quiet strength in Harry's voice, tears streaming down his cheeks; not even making an attempt to stop crying.

Gradually, his gut-wrenching sobs quieted down to hushed sniffles.

Harry held him close, worried, anxious and all kinds of desperate, yet, hesitant to reveal that to Draco; the emotions raged inside him like a maelstrom, and yet, not one ripple caused by storm disturbed the aura of peace he radiated, the mask of calm on his face. A stillness enclosed the couple, broken only occasionally by the chirping of birds or Draco's quiet, hiccupping sobs. Sirius whined. He had never been too big a fan of tense silences.

Draco sent a teary smile Sirius's way and moved away from Harry, standing up and wrapping his arms around himself. Harry held out his hands inviting him to step back into them if he wanted. Draco did not oblige.

"Draco?" He asked, his voice soft, vulnerable. Draco looked up at him, his eyes swimming with tears again. "She's gone." Was all he said, quietly, his voice breaking. Harry's eyes watered as well. "Oh, Draco." Harry took him into his arms again, and placed his chin on top of her head. "I am so very sorry, love." Draco trembled, overcome with anguish. "How did she…" Harry started to ask and then stopped, uncomfortable. "In her sleep." Draco whispered, tiredly.

"Lucky her, huh?" Harry asked Draco with a mirthless smile.

Draco glanced up at him, curiously, his cheeks wet. "Mrs. Colinthorp died a painless death, you know?" Harry asked him, the empty smile still in place. "Not too many people get that privilege." Harry's eyes were contemplative and more than a little sad. Draco remembered the woman's laughing eyes even when she lost a match against him and how her wrinkled cheeks glowed in mirth when she won against her husband with his help.

"I suppose, at least, she's not hurting anymore." Draco conceded, finally, fisting at his eyes like a little boy and pulling away from Harry.

"How is Mr. C, Draco?" Harry asked, quietly.

Draco's mind jumped to the other half of the Colinthorp couple. Feeling extremely guilty, he looked up into Harry's eyes. "I don't know, Harry." He confessed. "I haven't been to see him." Harry smiled. "Shall we go see him then?" He offered Draco his arm. He accepted, hesitantly. They walked indoors. "Healer Alphonzo." Harry called loudly when he spied the man. The Healer stopped on his way up the stairs and turned. He smiled when Harry waved him down.

"Good Morning, Master Potter, Master Malfoy." He bowed his head slightly. "What can I do for you?" Harry pointed to Draco. "Where can we find Mr. Colinthorp?" The man smiled slightly. "I've just been to check on him. He's in his suite, of course." He shook his head at the silent question in Draco's eyes. "He's not doing too well, if you must know, Master Malfoy." Draco sighed, closing his eyes.

Over the Healer's shoulder, Harry spied a vase full of orchids.

Nodding his thanks to the doctor and ducking under the bracing arm the man had placed on Draco's shoulder, he plucked the flowers out of the vase and smiled charmingly at the woman sitting beside the reception counter. "You can replace them again without any problems, right?" He asked, apologetically. The woman smiled back, _almost simpering_, Draco noted with a scowl; and nodded. "Definitely." She winked. "Anything for you, Mr. Potter." Smiling gratefully, he turned and took a hold of Draco's elbow. Draco nodded a farewell to the Healer, who smiled and turned away. Harry steered him quickly towards the stairs and thrust the flowers into his arms.

"Go." He said, gently.

"But Harry, Healer Alphonzo said that he wasn't…" "He will need company." Harry interrupted firmly. "And who better than you, Dre?" He cupped Draco's cheek. "You are all but a son to them and you will go to him when he needs you. And right now, he needs you there, love." Harry's eyes were gentle, impassive and yet if one looked closely they gleamed with a fiercely affectionate light. He leaned close and kissed Draco chastely. "I'll be waiting for you. Right here." He promised.

And Draco took a deep breath, nodded, turning and climbing the stairs. Harry smiled sadly, staring after him. "As long as I possibly can, Draco, I'll be right here waiting."

XxX

"That's Draco Malfoy, right?"

Harry glanced down at the boy who had spoken. He hardly came to Harry's elbow in height and his face was painfully young. Yet his eyes, Harry mused, aching, his eyes were filled with wisdom far beyond his years. Harry nodded, crouching to the boy's level. "Yes, that's Draco Malfoy." He grinned with an effort. "I'm Harry Potter." He held out his hand.

The little boy nodded. "I know who you are." He smiled, mirthlessly. "Everybody knows." He put his tiny hand in Harry's palm. "My name is Azarel, Azarel Matthew." Harry smiled, gently. "That's a very unique name." The boy nodded. "Yeah, it means 'God has helped'." He shook his head. "I guess in my case, God just forgot, maybe, that he was supposed to help." The boy's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, sweetheart." Harry's heart seized and he put his arms around the little boy, holding him close.

"I'm okay, Harry." The boy smiled. "I can do something for you, you know." He said, slight mischief shining bright in his chocolate brown eyes. Harry smiled and leaned closer. "Oh yeah?" He whispered, conspiratorially. "I can save your Pretty Draco." He said. Harry's smile dimmed. "Oh? How are you going to do that?" The boy grinned brightly, with the air of a child who has donated his most precious toy to a charity organization and become his mother's favorite.

"After I die, Healer Alphonzo is going to give Draco my heart."

Harry felt as if the world had been pulled out from under his feet. Numbly he sat, cross-legged on the ground. "You're not allowed to tell Draco though, okay? He's not to know about this." The little boy settled in Harry's lap, taking his face between his tiny palms. "Healer Alphonzo said if Draco knows, he'll refuse and then, he won't get better." Azarel looked earnestly into Harry's eyes. "He only told me because I asked. You're not to tell Draco." He said again. "Promise me, Harry."

"I promise." Harry whispered, tears leaking freely down his cheeks. The boy frowned, confused. "Why are you crying, Harry? You're Pretty Draco's going to be okay." Harry chocked on a sob and pulled the boy closer, burying his face in his soft brown hair. "Oh, baby, I…" He ran out of air and chocked on another sob. "It's okay, Harry. It's all going to work out." He pushed at Harry until he gave up and looked at the boy. "You saved the world for us. I'm going to save your Draco for you." Azarel assured, gently, so innocent and so matured all at the same time.

"Thank you." Harry said, in between sobs. "Thank you so very much, Azarel." He held the boy to him tight and rocked him, his gut clenching at the unfairness of it all. "_Merlin_." He whimpered, fervently. "I did what I was born to do." The little boy's breathing had deepened and Harry leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Why do I _still_ have to watch the world _suffering_?"

XxX

The door creaked when he opened it gently and he flinched.

"Mr. C?" He called, his voice trembling. There was movement in the dark room and the figure on the bed rose, pulling the blanket up along with him to wrap around himself. "Draco? Draco Malfoy?" He croaked, his hand stretched out. "Yes." Draco said, his throat closing up. "Yes, it's me, Mr. C."

"Come here, child." The man pleaded.

Draco put the flowers in a vase in the corner table and walked to him. He sat down on the bed next to the elderly man and slung his arm around his shoulder. They sat in piercing silence for awhile and Draco felt his eyes watering for maybe the millionth time that day. "How are you, Mr. C?" He asked, finally, his voice so quiet he wondered if the man had heard him. He looked down at Draco and smiled. The pain in his eyes broke Draco's heart.

"She's gone." He whispered. "She got tired of slugging an invalid like me along with her everywhere she went…" Draco placed his palm over the man's mouth, shocked. "Oh, Mr. C…." Draco whispered, giving the tears freedom. They sprung forth and trailed freely down his flushed cheeks.

The man spoke, his voice raw and vulnerable.

"She had promised me, Draco Malfoy. Even when our sons turned their backs on us, she stayed strong and proud." His eyes were far away and his smile was dreamy as he spoke. "She was my pillar, my strength and my weakness all in one package. She was my shade when the sun became too bright and my sun when the cloud became too heavy. My world spun because she was a part of it." His voice broke and the man rubbed at his eyes.

"She's gone, now." He whispered, crying harshly, fat tears rolling down his wrinkled cheeks.

The man's pain was palpable and permeated every molecule of air in the room. His wounds were bleeding raw and the boy did not know how much longer they would bleed before they dried up or how long they would remain open and painful. He ached for the man, his gut wrenching in pain; he leant closer, offering all the warmth that he could.

"It'll be alright, Mr. C." She said, quietly, feeling a nasty prick of guilt. How on _earth_ could it be alright? The man had lost everything that he knew and lived for in the course of a single night. How could he tell him so heartlessly that everything would be alright?

The man shuddered. "At least-" He hiccupped. "At least she…at least it was painless." Draco flinched. "Somehow, saying it aloud made it seem so final, so real. But it seemed as if the old man had accepted it. "She's in a better place now." It looked to him as if he was assuring himself more than talking to Draco.

"At least, now, I don't have to watch her suffer anymore." He nodded, absently, almost unaware of Draco's presence by his side. "I don't have to watch her cry because she can't remember the names of our children or because she can't remember what I look like." The man whimpered. "My poor, poor Adrienne." Yes, Draco thought, the man had accepted it. How long would it take him, nevertheless to move on?

Dementia was horrible on a person's state of mind and all the relatives, Draco thought, feeling very grim, but at least Mrs. C didn't have to suffer anymore.

He told the man as such as he tightened his grip on his shoulders and he nodded, whistling a quiet dirge. He wrapped his arms around Draco, "She'll always be with me, though, right?" He asked the boy, hopefully. Draco nodded, gently. "Of course, we don't actually leave the ones whom we love behind, Mr. C."

They spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between playing chess and crying for their loss.

XxX

**Potter, **

**I received a letter from Draco the other day. He told me that you were there in St. Barakiel's; but he did not mention why you were there, because, he wrote, he didn't know. He also hopes, fervently, that it's not something that will take you away from him. **

**He also told me something very interesting. **

**He told me Potter, that he's in love with you. Strange how some things turn out, huh? Do you share the sentiment, as well? It doesn't matter, either way. **

**I guess I owe you, Potter, because we all thought that we had lost our Draco for ever. But in his last letter to me, he sounded like the boy I had grown up with and grown to love like a brother. And for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. **

**But that's not exactly the only reason for this short correspondence. You are aware that Draco is the Malfoy Heir? Well, as soon as he is better, he will have to take the reigns of the empire. He has to have an heir as well. So, Draco's parents beseech you; of course they wouldn't have used that exact word, to let Draco to live his life and live yours, AWAY FROM HIM. **

**As for me? I only want him to be happy. He has always wanted to be someone his father can be proud of. It would break his heart if his father disowned him, which he wouldn't do of course, if you co-operated. **

**Just keep that in mind, Potter. I honestly, wish you all the very best in life. **

**Regards,**

**Blaise Zabini. **

XxX

"Sunset." He whispered as his gun-metal grey eyes flitted the horizon, a collage of orchid, pink, yellow, purple and fuchsia colors. A hand closed over his eyes gently and he heard a bark. "Hush." A voice hissed behind him. "You still want me to guess?" Draco asked, his lips curling in amusement. The boy standing behind him cleared his throat, pointedly. "Oh, alright, alright." Draco said, laughingly.

"Is it…um…Voldemort?" His eyes danced behind the boy's golden-brown hand. He heard a snort behind him and grinned. "Oh wait, I know." Draco cried, pitching his voice higher, "it could be Albus Dumbledore." The boy shook with silent laughter. "No?" Draco pouted. "How about Oliver Wood? Victor Krum?" Harry burst out laughing. He took his hands off Draco's eyes, chuckling. "I am not a part of that list, am I?" Harry asked him, his eyes twinkling.

Draco looked at him with wide innocent eyes. "No, of course not, Potter, you plebian. Why would you be?" He flashed Harry a patented Draco Malfoy sneer. "All you ever did was save humanity from a sure spiral into madness." Harry stared for a moment and then burst out laughing, his head thrown back. Draco joined him a moment later and Sirius pranced around them, barking loudly.

He squatted down on the grass beside Draco and flung his arm around his shoulder.

"Hey Harry?" Draco whispered, wondering himself at the obscurity of the reason he was doing so. "Hmm?" Harry drawled, lazily, lying back on the grass, his palms cupping his head. "What's your favorite time of the day?" Harry turned slightly so that he had Draco and the setting sun in his peripheral vision. "I love watching the sunset." He breathed, awed by the colors playing across the horizon. There was a small silence. "You know, during the war, after running after rogue death-eaters all day and plotting Voldemort's demise, Ginny and I…we used to watch the sunset together." Harry said, a small smile on his face.

Draco frowned, "What's to like about a sunset?"

Harry turned his head fully to look at Draco. "What's not to like about it, Draco?" He asked, curiously. "The company, perhaps?" Draco murmured sarcastically, turning away from Harry's piercing gaze. Harry chuckled. "You _are_ jealous." He said, triumphantly. "I _am_ not, Potter." Draco snapped, flushing. "What reason would I have anyway to be jealous of _her_?" "Hey…" Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him close, Draco's back to Harry's chest. He laid a kiss against one blonde eyebrow. "I'm just teasing." Harry chided, gently.

"Maybe a _little_ jealous." Draco allowed, settling comfortably against Harry. "You don't ever have to be, okay?" Harry said, as Draco craned his neck to look back at him. Harry leaned closer, nibbling at Draco's bottom lip for a moment before letting go and watching the sky. Draco laid his head on Harry's shoulder, leaning against him fully and sighing, smiling almost happily. "To me, the setting of the sun signifies an end, the end of a day, end of life as we know it; the end of a cycle…" Draco said, quietly.

Harry smiled, understandingly.

"So suffice to say, I'm not a very big fan of sunsets." Draco shrugged with one shoulder. Harry sighed against Draco's hair and placed a kiss on his nape. Silence settled over them. Harry broke it, suddenly. "Well, to me? Sunset signifies a new beginning." Draco frowned confused, "How so?" Harry smiled. "You see, I see the sunset as an opportunity to start again. When the sun sets today, it takes with it all our mistakes and regrets giving us an opportunity to start anew tomorrow; another chance, as such, so to speak." He looked down at Draco, his eyes shining. "Tomorrow is another day." He said, grinning down at the blonde.

Draco smiled sadly.

"Harry, I have a…" His voice cracked then. Harry shook his head, frowning. "You're not under any pressure to tell me, love." Draco held up a hand and stood, stretching. "I want you to know." He said, as he watched Harry stand up as well. "I have a hole in my heart, close to the aorta." He confessed, softly. "Apparently, if they don't find a donor of the same blood type, I don't have much time left." And quite suddenly, he felt on top of the world. He felt light, at ease like the boulder placed on his chest had been hefted away and at peace.

Harry did not say another word, he held out his hands and Draco walked into them. His grip tightened around Draco and he realized with a smile that it was not something that worried Harry too much or if it did, it did not change the boy's feelings for him. He relaxed like a putty in Harry's arms. Over his head, Harry glanced at Sirius who was staring at Harry, his head cocked. He smiled, quietly at the dog.

There already was a solution to that, he thought, thinking with a pang about Azarel.

At least, he could be sure, he wouldn't lose Draco. As long as he could be sure Draco would be alright, he could let go of him without any qualms. It would _hurt_, like nothing _ever_ had before, but then when was _anything_ in his life painless?

XxX

"There is absolutely no way, then?" Harry's voice was quite and rather cheerful if one did not look too close. It didn't fool Healer Alphonzo, though.

The Healer sighed, heavily. "Harry, love, you didn't want any treatment, though I insisted we try at least the basics. What am I to do, son?" Harry smiled sadly at the Healer. "I understand, Amos." He said, standing. "I had actually accepted a long time ago. My magic, it was apart of me as long as I can remember yes, and I miss it horribly; but it is not something that I cannot live without." He shrugged and bit his lip.

"Human mind, you know? Sometimes, it slips out of your control." He turned and walked to the door. "So you have made up your mind to leave us, Master Potter?" Healer Alphonzo looked horribly unhappy, like he had failed him somehow. Harry kept his hands on the door knob and turned. "No point staying, is there? My magic, it's not going to come back."

His eyes met the Healer's. "I didn't mean to make you unhappy, Healer Alphonzo. Thank you for trying, but sometimes, in the game of life, we lose." He shrugged with one shoulder. "We have to be good sports about it, yeah?" And he smiled.

Swinging the door open, he walked out, shutting it quietly behind him. The Healer let his head fall forward on the table, cushioning it with his palms. "Why, Merlin, do you put those who serve you most faithfully through _such _anguish?"

XxX

"Afternoon, Draco. Where _have_ you been all morning?"

He looked up from the book he was pursuing. "I've been here the whole day, mate. Where have _you_ been?" Harry grinned and ran a hand through his spiky black hair. "Had a hair-cut. Sirius is with the hair-dresser now. She's giving my baby a trim." Draco smiled. "Nice. Come, sit with me."

He gestured to the other end of the couch he was sitting on and made a move to pull back his stretched out feet. "Nah, don't bother." Harry said and sat down, lifting Draco's feet and placing them on his lap.

A comfortable silence ensued.

"Hey Dre?" Draco had gone back to reading his Potions book and looked to b in the grips of the many million varieties of concoctions listed in the book. "Draco?" Harry tried again. "Hmm?" Harry pouted. "You're not listening to me." Draco put his book down and frowned at him. "What is it?" He asked, urgently, wanting to get back to his book.

"What would you…?" Harry stopped suddenly, as if unsure. Draco kept his eyes on Harry's face, curious. "Yeah?" He encouraged. Harry fidgeted. "Harry!" Draco snapped, impatiently after another five minutes of silence. "What would you do….?" Harry looked up and stared straight into Draco's eyes. "What would you do, Draco, if the person you loved most in the world cheated on you?"

Draco froze. Fear and a definite uncertainty crept into his eyes and Harry watched, quietly.

"Why?" Draco asked, quietly. "Why what?" Harry asked, surprised. Before Draco could formulate a reply, a short bark announced Sirius and he pranced in with the pitter-patter of clawed feet on the tiled floor. Harry pulled his eyes away from Draco's and immediately felt a little more comfortable. "Siri, baby, did that mean old woman handle my precious boy right? Should daddy go beat her up?"

Harry rubbed behind Sirius's ears and pulled him close, inhaling the freshly washed smell of his fur. The dog whimpered happily.

"Harry, why would you ask me that?" Draco demanded, slightly hysterically.

Harry looked at him, his eyes serious, and lips unsmiling. "What would you do?" he asked again. "I don't know." Draco snapped, furiously. "It hasn't ever happened to me, before, I keep telling you I've never been in love." He paused. "There's been no one but you, Harry." His voice was pained and Harry _hurt_, knowing what he was about to do would most probably be the end of his relation ship with Draco.

"Tell me I didn't make the worst mistake of my life, Harry, please tell me you're not going to leave me here and run." Draco said, his voice bordering on furious. His eyes flashed, how dare Harry ask him a question like that? "You did." Harry said his voice calm. "I have to let you know this at some point." Harry took a deep breath.

"I'm leaving St. Barakiel's after your transplant surgery next week. I…" He paused, wondering why he was purposefully stepping on his own heart. _It would break his heart if his father disowned him_, Blaise Zabini had written, _which he wouldn't do if you co-operated, of course_. "Ginny's waiting for me, Draco."

Draco looked up, his eyes cold. "Well, then, that's that, I suppose." He pulled his feet off Harry's lap and stood, "Thank you, Potter, for the good memories you gave me." He smiled, mirthlessly. "I assure you, I'll forget them as soon as possible."

Harry stood as well, his eyes watering, raising his arm for Draco. "Wait, Draco, I…" Draco turned, "Don't fucking touch me, damn it. It's all done. Everything that has to be said, has been said, Potter." He snarled. "If you're staying till the end of my transplant because of some warped sense of obligation towards me, please, for the love of Merlin, don't bother." He shook his head, violently.

"The sooner you're out of my life and back in Weaslette's arms, the sooner I can work on ridding all evidence of your presence in my life." He grinned, showing his teeth and raised his hand in a two-finger salute. "Wish you a good life, Potter. It's the least I can do, considering how good you were in bed." He stalked away, his steps rather wobbly, his head still held high and proud.

Harry sat on the couch, his head in his arms. "No." He said when Sirius nudged him with his wet snout. "It's what I want for him. I'll be better after this lifetime…" He smiled flatly.

"Maybe."

XxX

He raced down the corridor, his eyes darting into every room that flashed past him.

He ran down the stairs, taking two at a time. "Harry?" He yelled, glancing into the room that used to be the Hero's. He ran down the second flight of stairs and paused when he saw his Healer. "Healer Alphonzo" He called urgently. The man turned to look at Draco and smiled cheerfully at him. "There you are, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Later, perhaps, sir. I'm looking for Potter." Draco replied.

"Oh." The man's face darkened in confusion. "I'm sorry, Master Malfoy, Master Potter left last night, of course." Draco's heart leapt to his chest and he felt desperation well inside him. The Healer frowned. "I was under the impression that you were aware?" Draco shook his head numbly. He felt a freezing metal hand squeeze his heart painfully and he stopped breathing. When he began to breathe again, every breath he took was excruciating agony. Draco tired to find his voice to ask if Harry had been cured of whatever he had come to St. Barakiel's for. He came up blank; his voice box had seemingly frozen over.

"Master Potter is fine, Draco." Healer Alphonzo said, gently. "There was nothing life-threatening even when he came here. He was forced to, by his friends, apparently, who were rather concerned about Harry's state of magic." Draco's throat was chocking up, but he honestly couldn't find the tears to cry. All he felt was a strange sort of numbness and a hollow sense of loss.

He sat down on the steps, heavily.

Healer Alphonzo crouched down beside him. He handed Draco a white envelope. "Here." He said, gently. "Harry asked me to give this to you, if you will have it. It seemed as if he wanted nothing to be left unsaid." Draco looked up at the Healer, his eyes empty, tearless. He took the envelope wordlessly. Then he stood up, slowly.

"He's gone, isn't he? He…he didn't even say good bye." His voice broke. The Healer held out his hands. Draco took a lengthy look at them and shook his head mutely. He was really gone, wasn't he? _It's your fault, Malfoy_; He whispered to himself, inside his head. _Your fault he didn't even say goodbye. _

He turned around and ran.

XxX

**Hey Draco, **

**If you're reading this, then I guess, just perhaps, you've forgiven me? **

**I won't ask for it, honestly, I know I don't deserve it, but Draco, you got to believe me when I say that I didn't actually expect things to turn out this way. **

**You deserve to know why I was at St. Barakiel's at least now, so I'll tell you. I lost mu magic after the final battle with Voldemort. It's gone. A wand is just another stick to me now. I can't feel the magic in my blood, running through my veins or even the slight flare when I cast spells. It's simply gone. **

**Hermione and Ron insisted that I come and stay with Healer Alphonzo for a few years; do the basic training once again and see if it comes back. I wasn't going to stay long, wasn't going to waste my life that way. So I agreed on one year. **

**When I saw you there, I was surprised, shocked maybe and wanted so very badly to see you smile. It seemed Draco, as if you had forgotten how to smile, I never thought I'd fall in love with you and never thought you'd return that sentiment. I know that is honestly, no excuse for hurting you that way, but I am already spoken for. **

**Ginny has been waiting for me all these years and she's willing to move with me to the Muggle World after our marriage. I honestly, couldn't ask you to give up your life in the wizarding world for me, Draco. It seemed almost heartless to me. **

**Just please, try not to think of me with anything but a smile, which is rather unfair, but I couldn't bear it if you cried when you thought about me. No more tears!**

**Move on, Draco. Live your life to the fullest, for you, this is the beginning and the sky your limit. **

**Keep smiling for me. **

**Yours, (for I doubt I can be anyone else's after this)**

**Harry. **

**P.S: Sirius says Hi and he's terribly whiny because he misses you so. **

**P.P.S: I love you, Draco, with every tiny inch of my heart! **

He clenched his fist around the letter, and ground his teeth. Finally, the dams burst and Draco Malfoy buried his head in his hands and cried; cried desperately for all that he had lost; alone and aware now, what a broken-heart felt like.

XxX

He put the flowers on the marble headstone and leaned down and kissed it gently.

"Thank you for giving me another chance at life, Azarel. I don't even know what you look like, just that I will do everything in my power to make your sacrifice worth it." He whispered. "Master Malfoy?" The Healer called from the Atrium, smiling. "Are you ready to go?" He walked closer and held out a hand to Draco. "Careful for a few days alright? You had your surgery a week ago." He reminded.

Draco put a hand to his chest, gently. Azarel's heart beat within him, the beats strong and regular.

A firm, determined light shone in his eyes. It mad him look striking, beautiful. His father smiled coldly at him. "You ready to go, my son?" Draco nodded and took a step forward. He had been given a second chance at life by a little boy he knew nothing about. He wasn't going to let the boy's goodwill be in vain.

It was the first day of the rest of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Enjoy. And please do leave me a review, it would be much appreciated. Thanks to all those who left me a comment. It made my soul happy, *smiles happily*

**Disclaimer**: No profit is being made out of this harmless work of fiction, promise!

He came to awareness abruptly and lay with his eyes closed for a few moments.

He wondered if it was at all possible to break the habit. Then he shook his head. There was no need to break it, really. It was useful sometimes.

The phone on his night-stand buzzed, signaling a text message.

He reached for his glasses and put them on before opening his eyes. The world came into sharp focus and he turned his attention to the cell-phone. The tiny writing on the screen told him that he had two unread messages. Curiously, he opened the inbox.

The first message read,

'_Happy Birthday, Harry. Mom and I baked a cake for you. We'll cut it and eat it on your behalf to day evening and owl some over for you. Mom promised.' _

He smiled. Little Rose Weasley had insisted on learning how to use a cell phone and her Dad owning one so that they could keep in touch with Harry. Harry thumbed a quick 'thank you, sweetie' and hit send. Then he focused on the second message.

'_Uncle Harry, Happy Happy Birthday! I asked mom how old you were and she told me 28. That's kind of old, but it's no big deal, okay? We all still love you, even though you're really old now. Be a good boy today and Santa will bring you presents for Christmas. – Charlie'_

Harry grinned.

XxX

"Good Morning, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled, all lips with a hint of pearly white teeth. "Good Morning, sweetie. You look very worn out." He wriggled his eyebrows. "Hot date last night?" The woman chuckled. "I wonder why you still ask me that question, young man." She glanced at him over her huge plastic specs, reaching a hand up and flicking a grey strand of hair out of her face. Harry smiled. "Hey, you're still beautiful, Mrs. Finnegan. If you weren't Seamus's grandmother, I'd take you out myself."

She smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart. Now here's your class register." She held out a blue file. Harry took it from her hand, smiling gratefully. "And this is your new student." She held out a green file. "I took the liberty of including the child's name in your class rooster and marked it in dark red ink so that you can distinguish." Harry grinned. "Also, Mr. Potter, here's your lunch because I'm aware you skipped breakfast as usual and will preferably skip lunch as well." Harry took the little dish from her hands, smiling. "And this is your cake." The woman smiled. "Happy Birthday."

Harry leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I have no idea why you're still single." The woman swatted at him, smiling gently. "Go on with you now, classes start in ten minutes." Harry waved with one hand and walked down the carpeted corridor into his classroom. The classroom was already full, little children talking all at once in high-pitched voices and laughing. "Alright, everyone, let's just settle down, please." Harry called, placing the folders on the Teacher's table and looking down at the little children, his eyes twinkling.

"Good Morning, Mr. Potter." The children chorused, delighted to see him. Harry chuckled. "Morning kids. How are you all today?" "We're good, Mr. Potter." They chorused again, as one. "_Very_ nice. Let's move on, shall we?" He glanced around the class, quickly. "Mrs. Finnegan tells me we have a new friend among us, today." He said, easily, picking up the class rooster. He scanned it cursorily and his eyes caught the name written in bright red ink.

His heart stuttered for a moment and he reminded himself to breathe. Hoping that his voice was steady, he called out the name, tense with anticipation, his voice catching on the last name.

"Azarel Malfoy?" The little brunette boy at the left-most corner of the classroom raised his hand. "Al, actually." He said, smiling quietly at Harry; Draco's same quiet smile. There was absolutely no doubt that the boy was _his_; Harry's lips curled upwards without his permission. Draco's misty mercury grey eyes stared at him from a gorgeous little face framed by golden brown hair. "Welcome then, Al. I hope you feel at home in our classroom and feel free to come to me with any problem you might have, alright?"

Al grinned, slightly brighter than Harry, no less meaningful or sweet. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, I will."

Harry nodded and told himself firmly to turn around. "Aren't there any particular rules that I must abide by, sir?" The same quiet voice enquired. Such clarity of speech and such good vocabulary coming from one so young, it surprised Harry.

Then he wondered why it surprised him. He should know better than to expect anything less from any child of _his_. The other children had gone back to trilling and whispering among themselves. Harry walked to the boy's desk and crouched next to the low chair. "In my classroom mate, there are absolutely no rules, except one." Harry whispered, conspiratorially. Al raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of Draco's curious look. Harry felt his heart swell in his chest.

"Be yourself and have fun, okay?" He said and then frowned at the boy when he grinned. "I'm serious, Al, break this rule and there will be dire consequences." Al nodded solemnly. "I won't break them, Mr. Potter, I promise." Harry ruffled his hair with a slight smile.

"Good boy."

XxX

"Your cake is chocolate." Elaine Dursley, fellow kindergarten teacher and sister-in-law of sorts informed him as he walked in.

Harry smiled; crinkled eyes and blinding white teeth. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Bless you." He whispered in her ear. She grinned. "Uncle Harry, you're here." The little brunette boy came racing out of the door and barreled into Harry's arms. "Happy Birthday." He yelled right into Harry's ear. "I got your message earlier today, champ." Harry mumbled back, lifting the boy and placing him on his broad shoulders.

"Where's Dudders?" Harry asked, smiling teasingly.

"Respect, Potter." Dudley Dursley called from the kitchen. "At least in front of my son." He added, pleadingly. "Sure, no problem, _Dudders_." He looked over at a grinning Elaine and winked. She led the way into the small kitchen, cozy with a bright fire burning in the small fireplace, Harry following, Charlie holding onto his hand. Dudley glanced up from the paper he was reading. "Been to see mum, have you?" He asked, curiously.

Harry nodded, his eyes bright. "She'd doing, alright, Duds, she's happy." He assured the man gently. Dudley nodded, his eyes suspiciously wet. Petunia Dursley had been moved to a nursing home on her request soon after Vernon's death and it was something sitting rather heavily on her son's heart. He had confided in Harry that he had felt as if he had failed as a good son. Dudley's wife moved to stand by her husband's side.

"I'm alright, El." He reassured, squeezing her hand. He looked to Harry and flashed him a smirk. "So, birthday boy, my son tells me you're _really_ old now." Harry stuck his tongue out, playfully. "I'm not as old as you, Dudders" Charlie giggled when his father scowled.

Later after dinner, after Charlie had gone to bed; Harry and Dudley sat on the swings in Dudley's back porch, sharing a six-pack of beer. The crickets chirped all around them and it's _silent _otherwise, but it's a comfortable sort of silence. And somehow, by some strange quirk of fate he's as comfortable with his cousin as he _could_ possibly be with anyone. He's surrounded by the people who care about him and the ones he covets and he muses that maybe, just maybe, it can be this way forever, that maybe, this is good enough to constitute a happily ever after.

Rather strangely, that's when he lets himself think of Draco and all that they shared. Strangely, it's then he aches for the loss of all that was between them.

Strangely, it's when he misses Draco the _most_.

XxX

"Mr. Potter?" Harry looks up, a small smile on his face.

"Happy belated birthday." The boy smiled shyly and slid a pouch of Honeyduke's finest chocolates across the teacher's table. Harry's eyes widened in surprise and he glanced at the boy, curiously. Al shrugged. "You must not have eaten Honeyduke's in about eight years now, right?" The boy flashed him a sly smile.

"I know _for a fact_ that you're incredibly fond of it." Harry took the pouch with a grin and pocketed it. "Thank you, Al. You're very sweet." Al grinned. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Anything for the wizarding world's hero. And my father's." He added more quietly, his smile no less engaging.

Harry went about the rest of the day with a hand in his pocket, closed around the pouch of chocolates and a silly smile on his face.

XxX

"Isn't he something?" Elaine grinned and put her arms around Harry.

Harry smiled. Azarel stood over Charlie and another one of their friends, Jacob, explaining a math problem to them, earnestly. It was break and the other kids were outside, in sandboxes, slides and swings. Al has stayed back with Charlie and Jake to help them out with something they had told him they were having trouble with but too embarrassed to ask Mr. Potter, as he had already explained the problem quite a few times in the past.

"He's a lovely kid." Harry commented, chocking on the sudden swelling of his heart. "You know, what, Harry?" Harry glanced back at the woman. "Yeah?" Elaine smiled gently. "It has been about eight years. Shouldn't you at least remove the wool you pulled over Draco's eyes?" Harry shook his head. "Neither of us are ready for it, El."

"That's not true Harry and you _know_ it. Telling him that Ginny was waiting for you so that it was easier for him to let you go is not exactly giving him the closure he required after the relationship you guys shared, you know." Elaine squeezed Harry's shoulder. "It's a very noble thing you did for him, but it was rather stupid." She said, bluntly.

"He wouldn't have had Al if I had stayed now would he have?" Harry retorted, dryly.

"No, but it's no crime to want to re-establish some contact with him, Harry." She chided. "I couldn't settle for friendship, Elaine." Harry said with a sad smile. "I would require a lot more than that from him." Elaine sighed against his head.

"Harry, love, it's not a crime." She pressed. Harry smiled sardonically. "No it's not a crime to still be in love with him. It's pathetic." El frowned. "You could try." Harry nodded, reluctantly. "We'll see, won't we?" El nodded and kissed the top of his ear. "It'll get better, love. Everything will work out, you'll see." Harry smiled, gratefully and turned back to watching the little boy.

"Everything is as good as it will get, El. It couldn't possibly get any better." He wondered whom he was trying to convince.

XxX

"Hey Mr. P" Harry glanced up, chewing the bite of the apple that he had taken.

Al walked in, after waving goodbye to the man who had dropped him off. "'Morning Al." Harry smiled warmly. "You're early today." The boy shrugged. "Dad left early today morning, had some work at the Ministry apparently." He laid his messenger bag at his desk and hopped on the table closest to Harry's. "Who dropped you off then?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Oh, that was Dad's valet." Harry nodded. "Want an apple?" Al grinned. "Sure. Why are you eating apples though? I thought you liked pear more?" Harry swallowed with difficulty. "Yes, well, a lot of things changed, Al." The boy spoke as if he had been a part of Harry's life all the while, like he had talked and walked with him; like he had breathed the same air as him all this time.

"What changed, Mr. P?" The boy's eyes were curious and Harry smiled. "It's not something that you'll understand, Tiny." Al giggled when Harry stood and swooped the boy out of his perch on the desk. He carried the boy with his arms cupped at the small of his back and Al raised his legs and wrapped it around Harry's waist, throwing his arms around Harry's shoulders for support. "I'm not tiny, you know." He retorted when Harry carried him out to the playground. "No?" Harry smiled, placing Al on the swing and occupying the one next to him.

"No. Dad says he was shorter than me when he was my age." He grinned. "Dad's tall now."

Harry's smile was poignant. "Yes, Draco's tall now." He agreed. "You know, every time dad starts talking about the Gryffindor versus Slytherin quidditch matches, before he finishes the account, I _know_ that you'll win." Al said his eyes mischievous.

"Really now?" Harry's eyes danced. "I didn't win _all_ the matches, you know." Al snorted. "Oh, come now, Mr. P, Dad has a very hard time admitting to failure of any sort." Harry smiled, _didn't he know it? _"So if dad's actually got this admiring look in his eye when he's talking about you, it means you exceed his standards and that's an _accomplishment_, you know?"

Harry chortled.

"You _would_ think that, Tiny." Al pouted. "I'm serious, Mr. Potter." Harry snickered. "Sure you are." He stood and stretched. The swing _was_ rather small for him. "Let's move in, shall we?" He asked the little boy who was watching him with rapturous fascination. "You know, Mr. P?" Al asked, standing up as well and taking Harry's hand. "Hm?" Harry steered them towards the classroom.

"Dad's always told me that you were the most beautiful man he's laid eyes on, Mr. Potter. I believe him now." Al flashed him a sly grin and walked before him into the classroom, greeting his friends with a beaming smile and some strange hand-shake.

Harry could not stop the blushing smile that bloomed across his lips.

XxX

He wondered what Draco did for a living. Not that he _needed_ the money.

Then he wondered why he was wondering so. It simply wasn't scrupulous or very prudent to think so much about a man who was married with a child no matter what his relationship with him had been previously. Children, for all he knew, he had never asked Azarel if he had a sibling.

His cell-phone chirped on the night-stand.

Abandoning his plate of fruits and the papers he was grading, he stood up and reached for it. "Potter." "Harry, mate?" A voice hollered from the tiny speakers. Harry winced and held the phone away from his ear. "Ron, I can hear you, don't yell." Harry said, torn between despairing and laughing at Ron's utter incomprehension of anything and everything muggle.

"How do you operate this stupid contraption?" Ron yelled, hopelessly. "Ron, Ron, listen to me." Harry pleaded, fearing for his eardrums. There was silence at the other end. "Are you listening? Good. Hold the speaker close to your mouth and speak normally." He advised. "Like this?" Ron's deep voice came at a smaller volume than before, clearly and without static.

"Exactly like that." Harry said, relieved.

"How are you doing, mate?" Ron asked, his voice light. Harry smiled warmly. "I'm doing okay, Ron. How about yourself? 'Mione and Rosie?" Ron made a non-committal noise. "We're all doing great, Harry. Missing you terribly, though." Harry shook his head, knowing where this was going. "If you've called again to persuade me back into the wizarding world, keep the phone down and bugger off, Ron." He growled, into the phone.

Ron was quiet for a few moments.

"True though it is that we'd be much happier with you in easier access, 'Mione and I understand why it's so important for you to be in the muggle world, Harry." He said, finally. Harry sighed. "What would I do in the wizarding world without my magic, Ron?" Harry asked, almost pleadingly. "I just would be reminded over and over again of the sacrifice I had to make to fulfill their expectations and it would make me bitter and desperate."

"I prefer it this way, mate." He assured when Ron tried to interrupt.

Ron hissed out a breath. "Alright mate. Oh, Rosie wants to know if you got the cake." Harry smiled. "Yes, I got it. Please let her know it is the most amazing cake I have tasted all my life." Ron chuckled. "It tasted like shit, mate. You can be frank with me, you know?" Harry laughed. "Right you are." He admitted, his voice saturated with his amusement. "But you will tell Rose my first comment?" Ron hummed. "Sure I will. Hermione's scary when I make the kid cry, Harry."

Harry threw his head back and laughed. He did not think of Draco for the rest of the day.

XxX

"No one's come for you, yet, mate?" Al looked up at Harry and frowned thoughtfully.

"It's_ not_ like dad." He commented, putting his fist under his chin. Harry jumped onto the desk facing the entryway to the little pre-school like the little boy and imitated his posture. Al looked over at Harry and grinned. "Don't you have to go home, Mr. Potter?" Harry waved a hand. "It's a Friday. Besides, it's not like anyone is waiting for me back home." He hoped that hadn't sounded as wistful as he had thought it had.

Al's eyes became contemplative and he looked thoughtfully at Harry for a long moment. Harry tried not to squirm under the unnervingly intense gaze. "You know, Mr. Potter, that was your choice." Al said, finally. "People make wrong choices all the time." He looked back out into the little garden. "There are always ways to correct them." Al paused. Harry put a gentle hand on his back, encouragingly.

"Dad made sure that I know of his past and all the wrong choices he made so that I can be better equipped to make wiser choices in the future." Al said, his lips pulled into a fond smile. "There can never be a person I respect or love more than dad himself, but since Mr. Potter, you've been as integral a part of my life as dad since I was born; through stories and pictures if not through direct contact; I think I should tell you that dad always says that everyone has a chance to revisit their mistakes and correct them at some point."

Harry started with wide eyes. Al turned to face him. "Don't miss your cue, Mr. P. It will come soon, I know it." _This little boy_, Harry thought, dazed, _saw and understood so much more than anyone else did._

"Am I interrupting?" Harry was sure his heart had stopped beating. Reminding himself to breathe, he saw Al's face light up in his periphery and he glanced upat the blonde standing in the doorway, his hands poised as if to knock. "Dad, you're here." Al jumped off the table and raced into his father's arms. Draco lifted him effortlessly into his arms and laid a kiss against his forehead. "Did I make you wait long, champ?" He asked, his whole world narrowing to the little boy he held carefully in his arms. Al shook his head, grinning at his father. "No. Mr. Potter was just waiting with me, weren't you, Mr. P?" He turned to regard his teacher, his eyes sparkling.

Draco stood tall and seemingly untouched by anything bad on the threshold of his classroom, his son in his arms and it was all Harry could do to not throw his arms around the father-son pair and scream, 'Please adopt me into your family, I'm house trained.' Gone was the thin, frail, insecure, delicately beautiful boy Harry had fallen in love with. This was a man in the prime of his health, strong and almost ridiculously handsome and aware of it from the way he carried himself.

"Well, well, if it isn't the elusive Mr. P." His voice had deepened into a lilting, husky baritone, and his dusky grey eyes were sparkling in amusement and Harry smiled, as if he was being strangled. "Hey Draco." Draco held out his free hand for Harry to shake, his lips curving into a beautiful smile. "It has been very long, huh? How are you, Harry?"

Harry took his hand, wistfulness and a strange sense of loss curling inside him and settling like lead at the bottom of his stomach. "I'm doing great, Draco, yourself, mate?" Draco glanced to the boy in his arms, his eyes warming. "I'm well, thank you." He answered. He looked back at Harry, his eyes strangely open and vulnerable, swirling like it held the prairie storms for a moment before it calmed.

"I'd really like to stay and chat, Harry, but I've got to get home before we're missed too much." Al grinned giddily. "Yeah, we should leave right about now." Harry wondered if Draco was talking about his wife and felt a sudden pang. "I'll catch you later, maybe?" Draco paused, his eyes questioning.

"Yes, yeah, of course, catch up and all you know." Draco smiled at Harry's flailing. "Yes. Catch up; we did miss about eight years of each other's lives." Harry smiled almost guiltily. "Yeah." Draco turned without a farewell and climbed down the stairs, his gait easy and languid. Harry watched, painful longing in his eyes, one hand clenched around the door frame.

"Bye, Mr. P." Al yelled from the protective cocoon of Draco's arms. "See you Monday." Harry waved, his lips curving unbidden into an adoring smile.

XxX

"You know, tomorrow's my seventh birthday." Al announced from his seat, when the rest of the class had filed out. Harry collected his things, and flashed the little boy a smile. "Really? What big plans have you set in motion?"

Al smiled slyly.

"Honestly, Mr. P, what makes you think I have any plans at all in place?" He pouted. "I only waited behind to ask if you want to swing by the Manor for dinner tonight." Harry's brows furrowed. "Are you inviting me to some kind of party?" Al shook his head. "It's just going to be you, me and dad." Harry frowned. "What about your mum, Al?"

He regretted the question the minute he saw the wretched grief in Azarel's eyes. "Mom died." He said simply, in a tiny voice. It pulled at Harry's heart-strings. "Oh honey." He put his arms around the boy and held on tight. "I sometimes feel guilty, you know, Mr. P." The little boy mumbled against Harry's chest. "I should miss her more. But I didn't know her at all." He smiled sadly. "But dad says its okay that I don't miss her much, because she died when I was _really very_ small and she wouldn't feel bad."

"Did your dad love her?" Harry asked, drowning in guilt after the question left his mouth. What kind of a heartless question was that to ask a little boy? Al glanced up at Harry knowingly. He shook his head. "She loved him, but dad coveted her as his best friend." He assured. "He was broken when she died, because in his own way, yes, he did love her and for a few years, he had built a life with her. He even thought given time, he could even learn to love her like she loved him." Al smirked. "But he has loved someone else with far too much greater a passion to have been able to give my mom even half of it." Harry smiled, unbidden.

"It's okay though, Mr. P, regardless of my father's relationship with mum, he loves me more than anything in the world. I think, maybe, mum's happy too, the kind of life I'm living now." He threw his arms around Harry's neck. "What I would really like though, is for dad to find love with someone like you again. Perhaps, you yourself." He mumbled. Harry started, his arms tightening unconsciously around the boy. Al's lips curved mischievously against Harry's shoulder.

Harry smirked.

XxX

Harry wrung his fingers together and then told himself to stop acting like an idiot.

He glanced at the knocker placed high on the big brass doors and wondered how the heck was he supposed to reach that without magic? He raised his fist, finally and thumped it against the door as hard as he could. The door swung open and Azarel bounded out. "Hey Mr. P." He threw his arms around Harry in a hug. "I was waiting for you."

Harry swung the boy up into his arms.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart." He whispered against his ear. "I'll give you your gift in class, okay, so that your _dad_ does not know." Al chuckled. "That cool a gift, huh?" Harry winked, grinning. It was amusing how the boy gravitated from using extremely sauvé vocabulary to normal mundane words like 'cool'. It was times like those that reminded Harry that though the boy was a lot advanced and matured for his age, he still was painfully young.

"Will you keep Mr. Potter out all day, Azarel?" Draco called from the stairs, smiling amusedly. The boy made an 'O' with his mouth and then giggling, he wriggled out of Harry's arms and took the man by his hand. Harry was thankful he wasn't expected to walk without assistance. He didn't think he would have been able to walk far with weak knees.

Draco looked like he had walked out of the cover page of the 'Witch-Weekly', in a soft grey cashmere sweater and pressed black slacks. He was barefoot and Harry swallowed. "Can I take your coat, Mr. P?" Al asked by his side. Draco's smile became crooked, more intimate somehow and he didn't take his eyes off Harry's. "Mr. P?" Al tugged at his arm. Snapped out of his reverie, growing red when Draco chuckled, he shrugged off his coat and handed it to the little boy.

"Welcome, Harry. Make yourself at home, please." Draco said, walking fluidly down the last few stairs, holding out his hand. Harry took it, hoping against hope that his hand wasn't sweaty. Draco smiled again, the same private little smile and Harry's heart stuttered; "Thank you." He mumbled, not very confident he would have been able to say anything else without his voice breaking or something equally embarrassing.

The floo flared to life and someone stepped out, dusting the floo powder off.

"Uncle Blaise." The little boy hollered and flung himself at the man. "You made it." Harry stiffened beside Draco and Draco cast a curious glance at him. "Hey mate." Draco greeted, grinning, when Blaise was finally free of the little boy. "Draco." Blaise said, grinning back and walking forward, throwing his arm around Draco. Harry took a few steps back, suddenly feeling out of place.

Blaise moved back and grinned suddenly when he spotted Harry. "Potter, hey, this is a pleasant surprise." Harry smiled back, wearily. Blaise's eyes took in Harry without the least bit of surprise, amusement perhaps, but not surprise. Harry wondered at the contradiction between the words and the expression.

"You do know, Uncle B, right, Mr. P?" Harry looked down at the boy, and nodded shortly. "Now, now, no need to get your bristles up, Harry." Blaise said, amiably. He held out his hands. "Surely if you can be friends with Draco you can extend me the same privilege?" His warm brown eyes danced merrily. Draco snorted at his back. "Don't Harry, you'll regret it." He warned, a teasing smile playing about his lips. Blaise turned and stuck his tongue out at Draco.

Harry could not prevent the sudden grin that pulled at his lips. He put his palm in Blaise's still extended one and Blaise laughed mirthfully. "That's my man." He pulled Harry forward by his hand into a warm hug. "Welcome to the brood, mate." Harry's face contorted in surprise as he glanced at Draco over Blaise's shoulder. Draco smiled warmly at him, his hand buried in his son's hair. And relaxing, his own arms coming up and patting Blaise, awkwardly, Harry smiled back.

Blaise let go and stepped back, smirking when Harry's hands dropped but his eyes remained on Draco's. "Dad, let's go." Al whined, after a few moments. Draco snapped out of his reverie and smiled apologetically at his son, a flush high on his cheeks. He moved close to Harry and steered him towards the dining room, his hand on the small of Harry's back, talking to Blaise who was walking on his other side.

Draco's palm felt _warm_ on his back and Harry wondered, absently, if it would burn a hole through his shirt as he tried to focus on their conversation.

XxX

"And then, Charlie said, Mr. P calls his dad _Dudders_." Al said and burst into peels of happy laughter, clutching at Draco's sweater with one hand and his midriff with the other. Harry grinned at the adorable sight the little boy made. Draco chuckled. "Is that so?" He asked his son. "Uh-huh. Isn't that funny dad? _Dudders_." The boy let out another peal of delighted laughter. It tickled Harry and he laughed along with Al. His laughter was contagious and Draco joined them a moment later.

Al stopped first and glanced at Harry with a bright smile.

Harry smiled back, just as brightly. "Did your dad get you what you wanted for your birthday?" He asked, conversationally. Al looked unhappy for a moment and then he smiled. "No." He said, simply. Harry frowned, confused. "Why didn't I get you what you wanted, champ?" Draco asked him, gently. "Because I wanted a puppy." The boy answered duly.

"And I am not old enough to own one." Harry smiled. "That's right. You'd have to walk the puppy, groom it, feed it, and all around make it feel loved." He glanced up at Draco. "Draco wouldn't be able to do it for you, see as he's busy and all." He looked back at Al. "You'd have to do it all by yourself. And if he fell sick, it would break your heart." He added thinking of Sirius with a pang.

Al gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments. "You had a dog, Mr. P." It was a statement. Harry nodded. "What happened to Sirius?" Al asked, curiously. Harry glanced up at Draco, surprised. The blonde regarded him with an even expression. "He fell sick, you know." Harry said, finally, looking back at Al. "He didn't hold on much after…" He stopped himself, his throat closing painfully. His eyes filled with tears suddenly. Draco stood abruptly, "Come Al, bed time." Harry glanced up surprised. "Oh. I'm _so_ sorry. I have been overstaying my welcome, haven't I?" He rose as well. "Sit, Potter." Draco snapped, sharply.

Harry obeyed, without thought. Draco lifted his son effortlessly into his arms. "Say goodnight to Mr. Potter, Al." He said, softly and lowered him close to Harry. Al raised his hands to Harry sleepily. Harry hoisted him onto his lap. Al laid a sloppy kiss on the man's smooth cheek. "Thanks for coming, Mr. P. Goodnight." Harry kissed the boy's forehead gently. "You're always welcome, baby boy. Sweet dreams."

He was hefted back into Draco's arms and he pressed the boy's face against his shoulder. "Wait for me, Harry." He whispered, leaning down, his breath ghosting across Harry's face, fresh and minty. Again, instinctively, Harry nodded his agreement. Blaise had left a long while ago. He had time, he could wait. Good things came to those who waited. Harry smiled wryly.

Draco walked languidly back into the parlor-like room he had left Harry in after a short period of about fifteen minutes. Harry looked up. "Al asleep?" Draco nodded shortly and ran his hands through his hair. "How's Weaslette doing, Potter?" Harry gulped discreetly. Well, no time like the present.

"She's doing alright. She married Dean Thomas; they have a daughter. Lynette must be about Al's age now." Draco dropped onto the couch opposite to the one Harry was sitting on and buried his head in his hands. "You could have just told me that you didn't want any sort of life long commitment with me. I would have not insisted that you stay behind with me." He mumbled.

"Don't be ridiculous." Harry snapped, abruptly angry.

Draco looked up his eyes glowing, "_I'm_ being ridiculous?" Harry stood. "Yes, you are fucker." He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. "Do you have any idea what I feel about you?" Draco looked rather bewildered. "I…I _love_ you, prat." Harry said, simply unable to put it any other way. "I haven't dated once since you; know why?" Harry fisted his hands in Draco's shirt. "Because the thought of touching anyone other than you burned me." Harry let go of his shirt and took a few steps back. "Because, I love you so very much the thought of even placing another in your place made me feel like cheating."

"I've _never_ loved anyone else so much and Merlin help me, I never can." Harry said, desperately, running his hand through his hair. "You've ruined it for me forever, Malfoy." He added with a self-depreciating smile. Draco stood and stalked towards Harry with a purposeful stride. He fisted Harry's shirt. "Would it suffice if I tell you I think about you with every breath I take?" He growled.

"This is ridiculous, Draco." Harry said, gently removing Draco's hand from his shirt and taking a few steps back. "We can't just continue where we left off. You…" "My wife's dead." Draco said, shortly. "She's been dead nearly seven years now." Harry shook his head. "I know, I'm sorry. But we do have your son to think about." Draco let out a short bark of laughter. "Quit making excuses, jerk. My son loves you more than I do and _that's_ saying something."

"I…I…" Harry took two steps back and Draco took two steps forward. Frowning at the terrified look in Harry's eyes, he moved back and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know about the letter Blaise sent you. He was simply concerned for me and wanted me happy. But you must know, Harry, that by doing so, he's probably driven away my happiness forever." Draco flashed him a sad smile and moved further away.

"I'm not going to say anything further to you. If you are ever in my arms again, I want it to be because you walked into them yourself." He ran a hand through his hair and walked Harry to the door after he had collected his coat. "Thanks for making my son happy, Harry." He said. "Just know, when you, _if_ you ever decide to give us one more chance, I'll be here, waiting. I've been here waiting all along and I will continue to wait for all my natural life."

Harry's lips trembled.

He turned his back on Draco and almost ran down the long straight path that led out of the Manor gates. He had parked his car along the lane outside and quickly clambered in. As he drove, he had to grip the steering and tell himself sternly not to turn tail and run back into Draco's arms. It would make things really messy if he got involved with Draco again, he told himself. It wasn't worth throwing away his quiet life.

But oh, how he wished he could just run right back into the blonde's embrace and never _never_ let go.

XxX

"Mr. P?" Harry lifted his head off the desk and glanced wearily at the little boy.

They boy wrung his hands. "If you don't mind me asking, has something happened between dad and you?" Harry frowned. "Dad's been very…distant for the lack of a better word, these past few days." The little boy explained. "Uncle B and I are very worried. He was the same way when mum died."

Harry shook his head and stood.

"No, everything's fine between us, Al. Now, help me with the food cartons will you?" Al moved to obey, his eyes distant. "Whose idea was this…er…?" Harry glanced at him amused. "Field trip?" He offered. "Yeah, that. Where are we going?" Harry moved a few of the food boxes and watched Al do the same. "It was Mrs. Dursley's idea, Al. I went along with it because I figured you kids need the exposure."

"Oh." Al exclaimed, getting Harry's attention.

"My dad asked me to give this to you, Mr. P." The boy held out the little yellow teddy bear with silver buttons for eyes and the little black heart with the green lettering on it Harry had given him many _many_ years ago. The wordings had been changed though. Now the heart said, '_ad extremum_'

Harry took the bear gently and held it like it would break it he squeezed it too hard. "What does the writing mean?" He breathed.

Al smiled. "_Till the end of time_." He explained. Harry's eyes watered and he clutched at the teddy bear. "Harry." Elaine came swishing into the room. "Are you guys done? We're just about to move out." Harry glanced up at her. "There's something I have to do, El." He said, urgently. "Can you supervise this yourself?"

Elaine nodded, bewildered.

"Yes, of course, Harry. I'll have Mrs. Finnegan with me." Harry grinned. "Great, thanks." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I owe you one for this." He stopped in his tracks and turned around to regard Al who was wearing a delighted grin. He bent. "I'll have you know that your dad's _mine_ now. In fact, has always been." He paused and looked into the boy's eyes.

"By extension, then, you're mine too." He leaned over and kissed Al's cheek tenderly. "I need you to tell me if that's going to be a problem." Al scoffed. "Problem, Mr. P?" He leaned back in. "I've been trying to get this done since day one." He raised his hand in a two-fingered salute and grinned. "I'm glad it's _finally_ sunk in." Harry grinned. "Really now?"

"Yes. Now go, Mr. P. Dad's at home, sulking." Harry turned. "Have fun on your picnic." Al smirked and waggled his finger at him. "You have fun too." Harry smirked back. "Of course I will. It has been a _long_ time coming."

He walked out whistling. _Yes, Draco…and Al were pretty much worth everything in the world._

XxX

"What is it?" Draco growled pulling open the door.

Harry leaned against the threshold and grinned slowly at Draco. Draco eyed him wearily. Harry covered the distance between them in two leaping strides and fisted his hand in Draco's shirt. "I should have done this a _very long time_ ago." He said and leaned up and took Draco's mouth in a searing kiss.

Draco reciprocated immediately; wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him flush against his body. They parted, panting, and stood still in the other's embrace for a long moment. "Better late than never." Draco said, finally, his lips quirking to a side. Harry smiled.

Draco frowned then, confused.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a…er…" Harry chuckled. "Field trip?" He offered for the second time that day. "Yeah, that." Draco said, just like his son had. "Al told me that you guys were going on a field trip today." Harry nodded and stretched against Draco languidly. Draco's eyes sharpened and swirled. "Yeah, but you see, I had something more _important_ to do." He said, his eyes dancing. "So I took an off day." Draco ducked his head. "Bad, Potter. You _do_ have self preservatory instincts. I'm beginning to think that you might have done well in Slytherin, after all."

Harry sneered, surprising Malfoy into silence.

"Of course, I was supposed to be in Slytherin you know. The Sorting Hat changed its mind. I can be more devious than the best of them." Well, truthful enough. It would probably hurt Draco if he told him Harry had begged out of Slytherin because of his presence in the house. "Really now?" Draco smiled slowly, like a predator.

"Are you willing to prove it to me?"

Harry raised his chin, his eyes darkening to an almost black color. He held his hands open and grinned. "I'm all yours, Malfoy." He took a step closer, his hands still held out. "Always been. Always will be. Do your worst."

Draco smirked and pounced.

XxX

Harry woke to the smell of fresh food.

"He's up, dad." Al called; sitting perched on the armrest of the couch in which Harry lay. Harry groaned and stretched. "If Mr.P is going to be crashing on our couch, dad, we would require one big enough to fit him." Harry flushed. "Nah, he'll just crash with me in the bedroom." Draco called from the kitchen, smirking.

_We didn't make it up to Draco's bedroom after all_, Harry thought with a wry smile.

"You will be staying for lunch, of course, Mr. P?" Al asked smiling innocently. "Of course, mate, he's got to be hungry." Draco called again. Harry wondered if it was possible to get burned by the heat of one's blushes. "Up you get, Mr.P." Al said, brightly. "Oh, the field trip was a success by the way. No one died or got permanently crippled." Harry tried and failed to stop his short burst of laughter. "That's considered success?"

Al shrugged. "I mean, yeah, technically it _is_, right?"

Draco slid a plate of food across the table to Harry and placed one in front of his son. "Enjoy." He said, retrieving his own plate and joining them on the little island table. It felt very domestic, very comfortable and occasionally Al spoke to the two men, telling them about the book he was reading or the latest broom on the market. Harry kept silent when Draco joined in, smiling smugly and feeling more content than he had in quite a while.

Later in the day, they put Al to bed together and Al clutched at Harry's hand.

"Can I call you papa, now, Mr. P?" He enquired, his eyes shining in the bright room. Harry's heart swelled in his chest. "You, baby boy, can call me whatever you want." He mumbled leaning close and kissing the boy's forehead gently. Draco's arms wound around Harry as he glanced at his son over Harry's shoulder and winked at him. "Thanks Al." He stage-whispered.

Al grinned and held his thumb up at his dad. "Anytime, Dad."

Harry chuckled, leaning back into Draco's arms. Draco leaned down and kissed his son tenderly. "Sweet dreams, champ." He murmured. "Good night, dad, papa." Harry could not stop the giddy smile from blooming across his lips. Draco and Harry chorused a soft goodnight and shut the door gently behind them.

"So, papa." Draco turned to him with a warm smile, even warmer eyes. "What do you want to do now?" Harry wound his arms around Draco's shoulder and leaned up for a kiss. "The night's still young, Dre." He whispered against the blonde's lips.

Draco hummed in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around the man and deepening the kiss. Finally-_finally!_-he could call this beautiful man all his.

XxX

Later, much, _much_, later they lay side-by-side on Draco's huge four-poster bed.

It was quiet and Harry listened, content as Draco's breathing deepened. Abruptly, he rolled over and laid his arms on the expanse Draco's pale chest. He crossed them and laid his chin on them. "Hey Draco?" Draco opened his eyes. "Hmm?"

"What am I to you now?" Harry asked, his eyes glowing. Draco raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, you tell me Harry. What _are_ you to me now?" Harry laid a soft kiss on Draco's shoulder. "Hmm…your boyfriend?" Draco snorted. "What an _un_dignified word, Harry. I _won't_ be referred to as your boyfriend."

Harry chuckled. "Partners, maybe?" Draco scoffed, amused. "What, we starting a business together?" Harry rolled his eyes. "You tell me then, what _am_ I to you?" Draco looked at Harry thoughtfully for a few moments. "You know," he drawled. "What you are to me is not something I can describe in one word." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Draco tried to explain. "Like I don't' know, how you cannot describe faith in God in a particular way, because there are so many different faiths. Like how you cannot describe a mother's love for her baby because it's all encompassing." He glanced at Harry. "Are you getting what I mean?" Harry swooped down and claimed Draco's lips.

Draco smiled when Harry moved away. "Guess you got my meaning, huh?" Harry grinned. "Uh-huh." He kissed Draco again, chastely. "You are the most amazing man in the world, Draco Malfoy. What did I do to deserve you?" Draco grinned, trailing his hand up Harry's spine. "Oh, I don't know, Potter, you were born, maybe."

This, Harry Potter realized, leaning down to take Draco's mouth again, was what being _in love_ was all about.

XxX


End file.
